


The Lost and the Found

by KouriArashi



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Trope, Amnesia, Bigotry & Prejudice, Class Issues, Eventual Happy Ending, Families of Choice, Family, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Shadowhunter Magnus Bane, Slow Build, Warlock Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:03:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 65,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KouriArashi/pseuds/KouriArashi
Summary: Magnus Bane turned up on the steps of the NYC Institute when he was ten years old with no memories and nothing on him but the clothes on his back, three runes, and a stele. Fifteen years later, he's one of the best Shadowhunters in the world, but he's never solved the mystery of where he came from. When he starts having visions from his past, he consults the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Alec Lightwood, for help.Despite the fact that Lightwood has a reputation of being a recluse who hates meeting with anybody, he's more than a little flustered when greeted by the most gorgeous Shadowhunter he's ever seen ... who promptly asks him out on a date.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this amazing post](http://isabellebiwoods.tumblr.com/post/159580991007/shau-where-magnus-is-the-sassy-devil-may-care)! Though I didn't use all of the ideas in it, it gave me a great sandbox to play in. 
> 
> Not a lot of warnings for this fic beyond some references to bigotry/discrmination/classism (the Clave sucks in every universe) and Magnus' past abusive relationship with Camille.

The day after Magnus’ twenty-fifth birthday is when he has the first vision.

Ever since he showed up on the doorstep of the New York Institute, ten years old and trembling from the cold, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a stele, he’s been trying to remember where he came from. He had never had the slightest bit of luck. Everything before the moment where he saw those doors for the first time is blank. It’s as if he hadn’t existed before that day.

Then, out of the blue, he’s lying in bed trying to sleep and he’s suddenly in a different bed, in a different time, and he can hear someone talking. “It’s not good for him, having to move so often. I’m worried about him.”

It’s so startling that he sits bolt upright in bed and calls out, “Who’s there?” But his room is empty.

He shakes it off, chalking it up to a dream that he had woken from suddenly. He doesn’t think about it again until almost two weeks later. He and Raphael are staking out an underground club, waiting for a demon to arrive, when he finds himself standing in a kitchen, watching a woman’s back as she stands in a doorway holding a seraph blade.

“The fuck was that?” Raphael asks, as Magnus startles back to himself.

“I don’t know, I was suddenly just . . .” Magnus pushes a hand back through his hair, absently tugging on one of the gold streaks he had dyed in that morning. “It felt like I was somewhere else, but it was so foggy, like I was underwater. No, that’s a bad way of putting it.” He frowns, trying to think of words to describe it. “Like I was watching through binoculars, and the lenses were like pinholes.”

“Okay, first of all,” Raphael says, “you are no longer allowed to use metaphors. Secondly, I have no idea what you’re trying to describe.”

“I’m not sure I could explain it.” Magnus is frowning. “Come to think of it, the same sort of thing happened a couple weeks ago. I just thought it was a dream.”

Raphael glances over at him before turning his gaze back to the club’s entrance. “What do you think it is now?”

“It feels like . . . a memory.” Magnus shakes his head a little. “But I don’t see how that could be possible.”

Raphael’s quiet for a long minute. Magnus is used to that. Raphael is the sort of person who thinks before he speaks, which provides an excellent balance to Magnus’ impulsivity. “We still don’t have any idea why you don’t have your memories, so I guess anything is possible. What did you see?”

“Barely anything. Someone’s back. She had a seraph blade. I think I was in a kitchen. Maybe, though . . . does it make sense to say that I felt short? Things seemed higher up than they normally do. Which means that it could be a memory of when I was young.”

“Well, when we get back, we can ask Ragnor,” Raphael says. “He’s forgotten more than either of us have ever known.”

Magnus laughs, because he knows it’s true. Ragnor is the person who found him on the steps of the Institute, who brought him inside and gave him some cocoa and calmed him down. It wasn’t long before other members of the Clave had showed up, demanding answers and upsetting Magnus, who couldn’t give them. Ragnor was the one who had stood between them, telling the envoy from the Clave to back off. Ragnor had taken Magnus under his wing, tutoring him for the first year while advocating that he be admitted into a Shadowhunter Academy for a real education. There were a lot of people who didn’t think that Magnus should be allowed. They didn’t know where he came from, who his parents were, what had happened in the first ten years of his life.

Ragnor had continued to fight and badger and cajole until he finally got them to allow Magnus a formal education. Magnus had the feeling that they had regretted it ever since.

It’s not that he’s not good at it. In fact, he’s altogether too good. He’s excelled at every aspect of Shadowhunting there is, and the higher-ups with their structured hierarchy and their prestigious names resent him for it deeply. He made the sons and daughters of the Clave aristocracy look bad, and they’ll probably never forgive him for it.

It bothered him at first, but it doesn’t anymore. He loves what he does, and he loves being good at it. Of course, part of the reason he’s so good is precisely because he doesn’t share their prejudices. When a case involves a Downworlder, he treats them like anyone else, and finds that it works much better than the Clave’s policy of bullying and holding their collective nose.

Naturally, this annoys the Clave even more, but they’ve resigned themselves to talking behind his back and letting him do what he wants because he gets results. New York City, once viewed as a third-rate Institute, has some of the best statistics in the world after him having been there for five years.

Ragnor is proud of him, and boasts about him even though (or perhaps partly because) he knows that the Clave aristocracy doesn’t like him. But Magnus has never stopped wondering where he came from, or why his parents abandoned him.

When he gets back to the Institute and asks Ragnor, he frowns slightly and says, “Well, I don’t know why it would have started now. Maybe someone or something you saw triggered it. Have you been anywhere unusual lately?”

“No, not that I can think of.” Magnus shrugs a little. “Magic can wear off over time, couldn’t it?”

“I suppose so. I’m less familiar with what would happen if it were warlock magic, rather than our own. Which it must have been, given the absence of runes.” Ragnor hums for a moment, deep in thought. “I’ll make some inquiries. Let me know if it happens again.”

“All right,” Magnus says.

It does happen again, two more times in the next week. Both visions are hazy and indistinct, despite Magnus’ knowledge that it’s happening and his efforts to get more detail. The only thing he can be sure of is that it feels like he was running from something. That makes sense, given the fact that his memories were erased, but it’s starting to make him edgy.

“Okay,” Ragnor says a few days later. “I’ve asked a few people I know, and most of them weren’t much help. I think we’re going to have to go to someone higher up the chain than usual. I’ve put a few feelers out. I’m hoping that the High Warlock of Brooklyn will agree to meet with you, although he’s notoriously reclusive so he might not bite.”

“Maybe I can do something to help?” Magnus suggests. “I know other Downworlders in the city.”

“Trust me, that’s the only reason I’ll be able to pass the message along,” Ragnor says, and sighs at the look on Magnus’ face. “Look, Magnus, I know that you’re eager to find out where you came from. But Lightwood is touchy. Let me handle the initial negotiations. Okay?”

“Okay,” Magnus says with a sigh. He’s waited fifteen years. Surely another few days or weeks doesn’t matter.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Alec! Guess what!”

Alec glances up from the book he’s reading and says to his sister, “You’ve discovered a sudden affinity for letting me read in peace?”

Izzy just scoffs at him, as if to say that this will never happen. Which, Alec muses, is probably true. He loves Izzy for how vibrant and enthusiastic she is. He just sometimes wishes she would do it five hundred miles away from him. “Remember that necklace that I got from Meliorn that I really loved and was a precious gift that _you_ lost to a mugger you could have easily taken care of with your magic?”

Alec doesn’t rise to her baiting. She knows damned well why he doesn’t like using magic on the street, and he refuses to have more discussions about it. “The one I told you to take to the jeweler yourself if one of the settings had come loose, but you still made me do it?”

“Yeah, that one.” Izzy brushes off his counter criticism. “I found it!”

“Great,” Alec says, not even trying to work enthusiasm into his voice. “Good for you.”

“And I need you to get it back for me.”

Alec sighs, and puts down his book, then sees her hopeful expression. “What do you need me to do?”

“So, the nephilim have it – ”

Alec groans loudly, letting his head drop into his hands. He _hates_ nephilim. They’re arrogant, demanding, and callously indifferent to Downworlders at the best of times.

“ – and one of them wants to meet with you about a spell he needs you to do, so, fortuitous, right?” Izzy beams at him. “And we can demand the necklace just as a price for the meeting, which means then if you can do the spell they want, we can charge them something else.”

“Like they’d pay. If I refuse, they’ll just threaten to bring me before the Clave for obstruction.”

Izzy shrugs. “Maybe not. The general rumor is that this Magnus Bane is actually on the level. So it’s worth asking.”

Alec thinks that it’s a pipe dream, and it’s not like there’s anything that he wants from the nephilim anyway. That’s what he’s about to say, but then something occurs to him. He frowns for a moment, considering, before saying, “Do you think they have any information on Morgenstern?”

Izzy’s eyes widen. They, along with Jace, have been looking for Valentine Morgenstern for over fifty years. “That’s a great idea! Seriously, Alec, I’m not even being sarcastic. That would be fantastic. They keep tabs on all the warlocks; they must know where he is, or at least where he’s been recently. We could really use this!”

“Okay.” Alec lets out a breath. “Okay, yeah. Call and set up the meeting. Just . . . make sure that you tell them . . .”

“That you’re you?” Izzy asks dryly, and then laughs. “Don’t worry, big brother. I’ll prepare them adequately, I promise.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Alexander Lightwood,” Ragnor says, gesturing at the picture on the screen. It’s of two men and a woman in formal Victorian clothing. Somehow the man with dark hair seems to look even stiffer than the other two. At least the others are smiling. “Best guess is that he’s about five centuries old. Came to New York about a century and a half ago. We don’t have a lot of intelligence on him, because he’s very reclusive and not overly fond of nephilim.”

“And why should he be?” Magnus murmurs, mostly to himself.

Ragnor rolls his eyes. “The intelligence we _do_ have suggests that he will have absolutely zero interest in helping you with anything, particularly if you go in there and try to charm him.”

“Ragnor, I can charm anybody,” Magnus says, offended.

“I’m not kidding, Magnus. Lightwood is well known for having no sense of humor and taking his job very seriously. If you go in there and act like your usual flippant, impertinent self, he won’t even give you the time of day.”

Magnus sighs, looking at the stodgy man in the photograph. “I’ll behave myself.”

“If he even agrees to meet with you,” Raphael says, rolling his eyes.

“He has. We have something that belonged to his family.” Ragnor opens a box to reveal a red jewel on a silver chain. “This piece of jewelry has a long history behind it, but the long and the short of it is that we came across it about fifty years ago, and he’s been looking for it ever since. I’ve passed along messages through the usual channels, and he’s agreed to meet you at Brooklyn Central library tonight at eight thirty.”

“Excellent,” Magnus says, with a wide smile. He takes the necklace from Ragnor’s hand.

Ragnor sighs. “That jewel is the price for meeting with you only. Anything after hearing you out, you’re going to have to negotiate yourself.”

“Please, Ragnor. I’m an expert negotiator.”

Raphael rolls his eyes so hard that he probably sees the back of his skull. “Well, I’m going with you,” he says. “This guy isn’t friendly, so no way am I going to let you go by yourself.”

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Magnus says, and tucks the necklace away into his pocket.

“Magnus,” Ragnor says, “don’t get cocky. Lightwood doesn’t like nephilim - Lightwood doesn’t like _anybody_. You’re going to have one shot to get him to agree to help you, and one shot only. So take this seriously.”

Magnus nods, his smile fading. “I will. And thank you, Ragnor, for your excellent counsel as always.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec looks at Izzy and sighs as she sits down on the edge of the table. “Why do I have to do this again?”

“Because they have my necklace, and I want it back,” Izzy reminds him.

Alec grumbles but doesn’t actively argue. She’s not going to budge, so he’s expected to sit here and play nice with some stuck-up nephilim who’s going to make demands of him like nephilim always do. He’s never met Magnus Bane, but he’s aware that he’s considered one of the best, which inevitably means he’s going to be an arrogant piece of shit. The talented nephilim always are.

He glances up as the door to the conference room opens and then does a double take as a young man walks into the room. He’s gorgeous from the tips of his magenta streaked hair all the way down to his black combat boots. Alec has to shake himself a little before he manages to say, “This, uh, this room is reserved.”

“I know,” the man says, and looks him up and down. A smile touches his face, and Lord help Alec, it makes him five times as beautiful. “I’m Magnus. You must be Alexander Lightwood.”

“I, uh, Alec,” he manages to stutter, and then he wonders what on earth is wrong with him. He’s met attractive men before. All right, it’s been a hundred years or so since he met one _this_ attractive, but even so, that’s no excuse for getting tongue-tied. He clears his throat and manages to regain his composure. “Show me the jewelry, Shadowhunter.”

Magnus nods and pulls the necklace out of a pocket and holds it up. Alec takes it from one hand, glances at it, and then tosses it to Izzy. She takes it, flashes Alec a wicked smile, and says, “I’ll wait outside.”

“Iz - ” Alec hastily stops himself from calling out after her, because he’s an adult and he’s not going to protest being left alone with a man just because he’s gorgeous. He waits until the door has shut behind her before he manages, “What is it that you want?”

“Well, I’m so glad you asked,” Magnus says, and when Alec’s eyes narrow involuntarily, he reins himself in. “I have no memory of anything before I was ten and showed up on the doorstep of the New York Institute. I’m trying to find my real family.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” Alec asks, folding his arms over his chest.

“Nothing. But I would appreciate any help that you could give me. In the last few months, I’ve started having little flashes, and I’ve wondered if my amnesia is the result of some sort of sorcery.”

Alec studies him for a long minute, his nerves settling down while he does so. This nephilim is nothing like he had expected, nothing like any of the ones he had ever met before. He even waits patiently while Alec considers, not continuing to talk and make demands or pulling out the usual line about how a Downworlder should be _honored_ to help a nephilim. Finally, Alec shoves out a chair. “Sit.”

Magnus does so, and Alec sits across from him. “Put out your hands, palms up.”

“Should we discuss payment for services rendered?” Magnus asks.

“I’m not going to charge you anything if there’s nothing I can do, and I won’t know that until I’ve taken a look.”

“Ah. Your generosity is appreciated.”

Alec flushes pink and studies Magnus’ hands because that’s by far the easiest part of him to look at. Of course, they’re very nice hands, and now he’s imagining all sorts of things Magnus might do with his hands, and he’s going to need a cold shower soon. He has to take a steadying breath before he can manage to place his own hands over Magnus’, the skin of which feels just as nice as he would have expected. He has to look up at Magnus’ face then, and sees a smile on Magnus’ face which should be illegal.

It drops off his face a second later when Alec dispenses with the glamour that hides his warlock features. He knows it can be unnerving, especially to someone who’s never seen it before, as his pupils enlarge, the irises of his eyes turning gold and swallowing up the whites. Magnus doesn’t look shocked though, just a bit surprised - more as if he’s surprised that Alec is letting him see it than surprised by what it looks like.

“Close your eyes,” Alec tells him, and Magnus obeys. “You said you had been having flashes. Focus on one of them. Whatever you can remember, even if it’s only a scrap.”

Magnus nods, and now Alec closes his eyes as well. There are dim memories there, but it’s like looking through ten layers of fog. He probes a little further, but when he tries to sweep the obscuring veil away, it just rolls back.

After several minutes, he opens his eyes and pulls away. “Your memories have not been removed.”

“Oh?” Magnus looks excited, eager.

“No. They’ve been obscured. Which is actually more difficult to undo.”

At this, Magnus frowns. “Why?”

“When memories are removed, they stay intact afterwards. They can be stored in a crystal, fed to a memory demon, whatever - but if you can find them, they can be restored wholesale. Obscured memories . . . think of it as if someone poured a gallon of black paint on the Mona Lisa. You can wipe away the black paint, but odds are good you’ll ruin the painting underneath.”

Magnus grimaces, then asks, “But is it possible?”

“Sure, anything’s possible.” Alec shrugs. “But even if it’s done by the best, there’s still a strong possibility that you’ll lose the memories forever.”

“Well, they certainly aren’t doing me any good as they are,” Magnus says, tapping his index finger against his lips in thought.

The silence sits for a moment while Alec is thoroughly distracted by watching that, before he realizes with a start that Magnus is expecting him to quote a price, or possibly refer him to a different warlock. Either way, the conversational ball is definitely in his court. “Uh, yeah, that.” He clears his throat. “That’s the deal.”

Magnus lifts both eyebrows and seems to be trying to hold back a smile. “So . . . is this something you can do for me?”

“Yes. For a price,” Alec adds, because there’s always a price, and just because he has absolutely no idea what to charge this intriguing young man is no reason to deviate from the script.

“I could take you out for a drink sometime,” Magnus offers.

“That, uh.” Alec clears his throat. “That isn’t really what I meant.”

“Is that a no?” Magnus asks, smirking.

Alec changes the subject, finally remembering what he and Izzy had been talking about after first getting this request. “I want all the information that the Clave has on a warlock named Valentine Morgenstern. Get me that, and I’ll do my best to recover your memories.”

“Done,” Magnus says.

Alec arches an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you check that with your superiors?”

“Only if I planned to tell them I was going to do it,” Magnus says with a wink, and Alec feels his face flush again. “Where and when should I meet you?”

“I’ll need a couple of days to get things together,” Alec says. “Give me your number, I’ll text you the information.”

“Certainly. Let me see your phone,” Magnus says, and holds out a hand. Alec gives it to him with some trepidation, but Magnus merely enters himself as a contact and then hands it back. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Yeah. Yes.” Alec manages not to start stuttering again as Magnus smiles and leaves the room.

Izzy instantly appears from wherever she’s been lurking. “Oh. My. God. You are so smitten!”

Alec goes even darker pink. “What? No, I’m not.”

Izzy cackles. “You missed such a good opportunity to make him pay you back with a date! He even offered!”

“I don’t want someone to date me because I did a memory spell for them,” Alec says firmly.

“Okay, good point. You should do the memory spell, get the intel, and _then_ go on a date with him. Excellent planning.”

Alec sighs. “Sure, Izzy. Whatever you say.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your kind comments! If anyone needs me I'll be over here making up a bunch of backstory for Shadowhunter!Magnus. XD

“So how’d it go?” Ragnor asks.

“Swimmingly,” Magnus says. “He agreed to help.”

Ragnor’s eyes narrow. “Because you were polite and respectful, like I told you to be?”

“Of course!” Magnus says.

“He flirted outrageously, offered to take Lightwood out for a drink as a form of payment, and then agreed to give Lightwood classified Clave information and specifically said that he didn’t plan on asking for permission before doing so,” Raphael says.

Magnus wrinkles his nose. “Tattle-tale. You were supposed to stay on perimeter.”

“You were supposed to be polite and respectful,” Raphael points out.

“What are you complaining about? He agreed to help.”

“Yeah.” Raphael shakes his head. “Guy must be really backed up.”

Ragnor pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to leave before I think about what you just said about classified information and have to deal with it.”

Magnus chuckles as Ragnor leaves the room. To Raphael, he adds, “I wouldn’t have flirted with him so outrageously if he weren’t so obviously interested.”

Raphael shrugs. “Hey, it’s your brain he’s going to be getting his fingers in, not mine. Doesn’t matter to me what you pay him in return. I’m just surprised, after everything Ragnor said. He didn’t act anything like what I expected.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time the Clave had drastically miscategorized a Downworlder,” Magnus says.

“Now that’s the truth. So who do you think this Morgenstern guy is?”

“No idea,” Magnus says, “but I intend to find out.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

It’s three days before Alec texts Magnus, and everyone agrees that it’s amazing Magnus has lasted that long. Patience is not one of his strong suits. The text is somewhat cryptic in nature. It gives a time and a place, then adds, ‘bring a friend’. Magnus was planning to bring Raphael anyway, so it isn’t a problem, but he has to admit that he’s curious about why.

He looks up the address on his phone and finds that it’s an old warehouse down by the docks. So he’s feeling a little apprehensive as he heads inside, and he can tell that Raphael is, too, by the set of his shoulders and his jaw. But there are no surprises. Alec is just inside, kneeling on the stone floor beside a pool of water. He glances up as Magnus and Raphael come in, and flushes faintly pink before looking away.

“Good evening,” Magnus says, smiling at him.

Alec just nods. “Come inside and close the door,” he says, brisk and business like. Magnus does as instructed, and Raphael leans against the door with his arms folded over his chest, his pose the picture of casual nonchalance. “Payment first.”

Magnus feels a little insulted, but then again the Clave _does_ have a long history of treating Downworlders like trash, so it’s probably fair. He pulls out a jump drive and hands it over. “Everything the Clave has, as promised.”

Alec sets it down with his other things, and doesn’t seem interested in immediately checking to make sure the information is actually on it. That makes Magnus feel a little less insulted. “So what are we doing here?” he asks, looking at the pool of water. It’s not lit at all, so it’s difficult to tell how deep it is, but it’s nearly ten feet square.

“The purpose is to put you back inside the memories,” Alec says. “We start with one of the flashes you’ve been having and see if we can get through the veil. You probably want to take off your shoes.”

“I’m going in?” Magnus asks, and Alec nods. “All right, then.” He toes off his shoes and then starts unbuttoning his jacket. Alec isn’t paying a lot of attention, dipping one finger into the water as if to test it, but his gaze jerks back to Magnus when he pulls his shirt over his head and starts unbuttoning his pants.

“W-What are you, I mean, you don’t have to,” he stutters.

Magnus’ eyebrows arch at him, amused despite himself. “I’m not going into a pool of water with all my clothes on.”

“No, uh, of course not,” Alec says, clearing his throat and hastily looking away. “Actually it’d be better if you didn’t. The point is that it’s like a sensory deprivation chamber. We’re trying to isolate you from the here and now.”

Magnus nods as he pulls down his pants, and then decides to keep on his underwear, because Alec won’t be doing any magic if he has an aneurysm. He steps into the water expecting it to be cold, but it’s not. It’s just a little bit warm, so that he won’t even feel it against his skin once he’s submerged. There’s a set of steps that lead down into the pool, and he gets to his shoulders and then lets himself float on his back. “This is quite nice, actually.”

“The high salinity makes it more buoyant,” Alec says, definitely not looking at Magnus.

“Where should I be?” Raphael asks, walking over so he can make sure Magnus doesn’t drown.

“Anywhere,” Alec says. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need you for the spell itself, it’s just that he’s likely to be pretty disoriented and tired at the end of it, so he’ll need you to take him home.”

“Well, I appreciate you not just dumping me on the steps of the Institute,” Magnus says, “although it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Alec gives a quiet snort. He steps into the pool so he’s standing behind the top of Magnus’ head, going in up to about his waist. Magnus glances up at him and sees that his glamor has dropped again. He can see the round, bird-shaped eyes and a few sleek feathers at Alec’s temples. Alec dips both hands in the water, swirling it around them, and it takes on a pale blue glow. “Close your eyes,” he says, and Magnus does so. “Just listen to my voice. Relax. Let the water support your weight.”

It’s quite a nice voice, Magnus reflects, and he likes hearing the firm confidence in it. Alexander Lightwood, the High Warlock, is quite a different person from Alec, the stammering wallflower. Magnus’ mind drifts, his body relaxing, sinking into a state of semi-consciousness.

“Think back,” Alec says. “Think of the woman you saw. Picture it as completely as you can. Who is she?”

“My mother,” Magnus replies. He hears the words come out of his mouth, somewhere far distant. He can see her in such detail, frozen in this one instant in time. “She . . . she’s beautiful.”

“Can you describe her?”

“She has long, dark hair . . . dark eyes, like mine. She’s wearing a sundress with daisies on it.”

“What else do you see?”

Magnus is quiet for a long minute, not even aware of it. Everything in the memory is so hazy, even now. They’re in a kitchen, he thinks. He can smell coffee. The windows are open, and there’s a warm breeze from outside. He can vaguely hear himself describing the room. “There’s someone else here. I can see his shadow.”

“Do you know him?” Alec asks.

“No . . .”

“Yes, you do. You said it was a him. You saw who it was, you know him. Just look around inside the memory, Magnus. Is it your father?”

“No,” Magnus says, rejecting that idea more forcefully than he meant to.

“Okay. A friend?”

“Maybe. Mother is . . . is telling me to go with him. That he’ll take me somewhere safe.”

“Safe from who?” Alec prompts.

Magnus doesn’t reply. He’s lost in the memory now, the echoes of it replaying in his mind. His mother looking over her shoulder, the fearful expression on her face. The way the man argues with her, saying that they can’t leave her behind. He’s touching her shoulder, and she’s brushing his hand away. “Get Magnus to safety,” she insists. “I’ll stay here, I’ll hold him off - ”

“Mama!” Magnus gasps, his eyes opening but not seeing the warehouse ceiling above him. He’s reaching for her, trying to get to her as the man picks him up and carries him away. He can see over the man’s shoulder, see his mother’s jaw set with determination as she pulls out her seraph blade and turns towards the front door. “Mama, no! Don’t - don’t leave me - ”

Magnus snaps back to reality as he’s pulled up out of the water, and he finds his head resting against something firm, warm. “Hey, it’s okay,” Alec murmurs, his hand cradling the back of Magnus’ neck. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Magnus shudders. “That was - intense.”

“Sorry,” Alec says. “I would have prepared you, but honestly I didn’t realize it was going to work that well.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Magnus takes in a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I saw my mother. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Alec smiles a little, and Magnus smiles back, and Alec immediately flushes pink and nearly drops Magnus back into the pool in his efforts to untangle their limbs. Raphael steps in to help, getting Magnus the rest of the way out of the water and sitting down on the floor. “Can we try again?” Magnus asks.

“Not right now,” Alec says. “We risk damaging the memories if we probe too far, too fast. Besides, you’re more tired than you realize. Go home, get some sleep. We can try again in a few days.”

Magnus nods, thinking things over. “She called him Luke. I don’t think I had met him before that day, but she addressed him by name as we were leaving. So that’s something to go on, at least. It’s more than we had.”

“It’s a lot more than we had.” Raphael speaks up. “You weren’t really adding up all the facts of what you were seeing, but there’s detail in there that might help us narrow down where you were. It was warm, you said. Your mother was in a sundress. But you showed up at the Institute in February. Things like that. Every little detail helps.”

“Maybe look into those things before we try doing this again,” Alec says, gesturing.

Magnus winks at him and says, “Was it so bad, seeing me without my clothes on?”

Alec immediately flushes a dark pink. “I, uh, that wasn’t what I meant. I mean, it wasn’t bad. Not that it was _good_ , it just, uh, it just was. Anyway, I’ll call you in a few days,” he adds, standing up so fast that he nearly trips over himself. He gives a quick gesture which makes magic run up and down his body with blue sparks, drying off his own clothes. “You can find your way out, I’m sure,” he adds, and exits via portal before either of the nephilim can speak.

Raphael shakes his head. “ _Really_ backed up.”

Magnus snorts with laughter despite himself. “I’ll have to see what I can do about giving him a hand with that.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec is eight hundred miles into a book when his phone rings. It startles him, jolting him out of the world he’s drifted into, and he looks at the phone in surprise. He can’t remember the last time his phone actually rang with a phone call. Jace and Izzy always just text him, or in Izzy’s case, show up at his loft uninvited to try to drag him out of it. He sets down the book and looks at his phone to see that it’s Magnus’ number. That only makes him more confused. He picks up uncertainly. “Hello?”

“Alec? It’s Magnus,” the beautiful voice says. Alec feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Alec says. “Were you calling to do the memory spell again?”

“No, I’m still working on the information I got last time,” Magnus says. “I was just calling because I was wondering if you might like to go out for that drink.”

Alec squints at his phone, unsure if Magnus is sincere. He can’t be. Shadowhunters and warlocks don’t go out on dates. He opens his mouth to remind Magnus of this, and to his horror, what comes out instead is, “That, uh, that sounds fun. When?”

“How about now?” Magnus asks.

“I, uh, I’m kind of in the middle of a few things,” Alec says, glancing around at his empty loft, totally devoid of any things for him to be in the middle of.

“Tonight, then? Eight o’clock?”

“Sure, I, I guess,” Alec says.

“Do you know Rory’s, on twenty-fifth street?” Magnus says, but doesn’t wait for Alec to reply. “I’ll text you the address. See you then.” He hangs up, again without waiting for a reply, probably because he knows that if he gives Alec thirty seconds, he’ll try to say he’s not coming.

Alec sets the phone down and looks at it in discomfiture. “Okay,” he says to himself. “Okay. No problem. It’s just a date. Normal people go on dates every day. You’re over four hundred years old and you can handle one date.”

“Did you say a _date_?” Izzy’s voice says shrilly from the doorway, and Alec nearly jumps out of his skin.

“What? No,” he says hastily, and Izzy gives him a look of disbelief. “Okay, yes, that’s what I said, but it’s not important. I’m going to call him back and cancel – ”

“Oh, no, you’re not!” Izzy says, grabbing his phone just as he tries to pick it up. “We are talking about Magnus, right? It’s not like anybody else would call and ask you on a date, so it’s got to be Magnus, and you are absolutely not calling him and cancelling. When are you meeting him? And where?”

“Eight, at some place called Rory’s,” Alec says.

“Okay, casual, that’s good.” Izzy clearly approves of the choice. “Plus there’s billiards and darts so if you forget how to speak English, you can always just play a game or something.”

“Izzy, come on, give me my phone,” Alec says. “I can’t – I can’t go on a date. You’re being ridiculous.”

Izzy folds her arms over her chest, gives her brother a long look, and then sighs. “Okay. Is your problem here actually logistical, or is it just emotional?”

“It’s both,” Alec growls at her. He huffs out a breath. “Okay, look, I know that you’re just going to say I deserve to be happy, and you’re going to completely ignore centuries of evidence that suggest otherwise, and the fact that literally every relationship I have attempted has blown up in my face. Because every time I try to remind you of that, you blithely ignore me and tell me this time will be different. Which it never is. So fine, solve my logistical problems. Fix the fact that I couldn’t be more socially awkward if I tried, that I have no idea what even happens on a date in this century, and will most likely convince Magnus never to speak to me again in five minutes or less.”

“Okay, first of all, if Magnus was going to be put off by your social awkwardness, he would have been already. He asked you on the date after meeting you. I think you’ll be okay. Hey. Come here.” Izzy takes him by the elbow, leading him back over to the sofa and sitting him down. “Here’s what happens on a date in this century. You’ll have a couple drinks, have a conversation, play a few rounds of pool. Magnus doesn’t seem like the type of person who’s going to pressure you for anything that you don’t seem interested in doing, so after that, you’ll probably say good night.”

Alec looks away from her for a moment. He clears his throat and says, “So, uh, it’s acceptable for two men to go out for a drink together now, huh?”

“Well, in America it is,” Izzy says. “There are still parts of the world I wouldn’t try it. But you’ll be fine here. In this city, nobody will bat an eyelash.”

“Okay.” Alec rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Izzy . . . I suck at talking to people. You know that.”

“Then let’s think of some conversational topics ahead of time,” Izzy says. “That way, you can prevent awkward silences. What do you want to talk with him about?”

“Uh . . .” Alec blanks. “See, this is the problem! I can think of things I might want to know about him, but half of them are things he doesn’t even know about himself. The only thing I know anything about is books. So I guess I could talk to him about those, therefore cementing his opinion that I am the most boring person alive.”

“Alec, if your date doesn’t enjoy talking about books, then the two of you aren’t meant to be,” Izzy says. “I’m sure Magnus can offer an opinion or two on The Hobbit.”

“Okay, and uh, he has to have been somewhere, right? I mean, he might have trained in different places. And I’ve lived in different places. So I guess that’s something else we can talk about.”

“See? You’re not so bad at this.”

“Yeah, I came up with two conversational topics, both of which I’ll probably forget as soon as I’m in the same room with him.” Alec groans. “Seriously, who gave him permission to be that attractive? Aren’t there _laws_ against that sort of thing?”

Izzy tries not to giggle. “You’ll have to take that up with a higher authority, I’m afraid. By the way, you should tell him that.”

“What?” Alec flushes pink.

“You should end the date by saying that you’re contacting a higher authority to pass rules against making people as attractive as he is.”

“Why would I say that to his face?!”

“Because literally anybody on earth would enjoy hearing that,” Izzy says. “I mean, wouldn’t you like it if he said that to you?”

“It’s just – it’s so cheesy!”

“It’s _charming_ ,” Izzy says. “Say that, kiss his cheek, and then hustle your ass through a portal. He will be just as smitten as you are right now. Now let’s go find you something to wear.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts Sorting opinions were pulled out of a hat. *cough* But not the Sorting Hat. Just a regular beanie that I had at my desk.

Alec rejects the first two outfits that Izzy plans for him, until she finally gives up and lets him wear a button down black shirt and jeans. She’s clearly disappointed with this, and makes him try on every pair of jeans he owns so she can choose the one which makes his ass look the best. “This is stupid,” Alec protests, after the fourth pair.

“You’re going to be playing pool. If he does not check out your ass while you are bending over to make a shot, he’s an idiot,” Izzy says, shoving a fifth pair of jeans at him.

She talks him out of cancelling two more times, finally threatening to take his phone apart if he tries it again. So it’s a somewhat discomfited, rattled, and anxious Alec who finds himself going through a portal into Manhattan. He’s just about to enter the bar when his phone buzzes, and he grabs it, hoping that it’s Magnus saying he can’t make it. Instead, it’s Izzy. ‘One more thing,’ she says. ‘DO NOT TALK ABOUT YOUR EXES.’

Alec winces and texts back, ‘Okay’ before heading into the bar.

Magnus is already there, and he looks amazing, dressed in black jeans, a turquoise shirt, and a black leather jacket. He’s at the bar, talking to the bartender, and he doesn’t see Alec come in. This allows Alec the opportunity to duck right back out of the bar, grabbing his phone. ‘Abort abort he’s wearing a leather jacket,’ he texts Izzy in a panic.

‘Do not abort!’ Izzy texts back immediately. ‘Compliment the jacket!’

Alec takes a deep breath and heads back into the bar. This time Magnus looks up when he comes in, and smiles, so there’s no backing out now. Magnus’ smile is somewhat magnetic, drawing Alec in despite his better judgment. He walks over and tries to smile back. “Hey,” he says. “I, uh, nice jacket.”

It’s not exactly the most eloquent thing to say, but at least he managed it in English, and Magnus seems flattered. “Nice everything,” he counters, and Alec flushes pink and turns to the bartender before he can try to respond to that. He definitely needs a beer.

Once he has that, and Magnus has a martini, he looks at the pool table in desperation. “You play?” he asks, gesturing.

“Well, I know how,” Magnus says, with a smile. “But you have to promise not to use magic.”

“I’m four hundred years old. I don’t need magic to play pool.” Alec grabs a cue and a rack before heading over to a table. Getting the table set up gives him something to do so he doesn’t have to look at Magnus. After he breaks and sinks his first shot, it occurs to him that it’d probably be rude to clear the table just to prove that he can, so he purposefully flubs his next shot. “It’s been a while,” he says.

Magnus smirks at him. “Haven’t you heard the phrase? If you can’t tell who’s being hustled at a pool hall . . . it’s probably you.” With that, he skips the cue ball over the eight ball to sink one of his own.

Alec considers himself lucky that his shirt is long enough to hide the boner he’s inevitably going to have before this evening is over. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” Magnus asks.

“Yeah.” Alec finds that he’s grinning. “Yeah, let’s play.”

He wins the first game, although it’s close. Magnus pouts, and Alec laughs at him and tells him to stop showing off with the trick shots and he can probably win. Magnus does, and ekes out a narrow victory in the second game. Of course, part of that is because Alec keeps getting distracted, looking at his ass. He can only presume that Izzy chose the wrong jeans, as Magnus doesn’t seem similarly distracted.

“Another drink?” Magnus asks, after the second game.

“Yeah,” Alec says, and they head back to the bar and then find themselves a table in the corner. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

“London, as it happens,” Magnus says. “I did a year at the Institute there when I was seventeen.”

“I never liked London,” Alec says. “Terrible weather, overpriced food.”

“It wasn’t my favorite,” Magnus agrees with a laugh.

“So you’ve been to a lot of places?”

“Oh, Lord, yes.” Magnus sips his cocktail. “I did my first three years here in New York, but when they couldn’t figure out who I was or where I came from, they started moving me around, in the hopes that somebody would recognize me. I did a year in . . .” He starts to count on his fingers. “Mumbai, Beijing, Nairobi, London, Paris, Mexico City, and Los Angeles. Before I came back here.”

“Which was your favorite?” Alec asks.

“I loved them all, each one for a different reason,” Magnus says. “Mumbai had the best food, Nairobi the best people, Paris the best shopping. Et cetera.”

“Well, you must have liked New York, since you came back here.”

“I do love New York, but it wasn’t the reason I came back.” Magnus shrugs and says, “It just felt like I was meant to be here. Like I must have been left here for a reason.” He sips his drink and says, “What about you? You’re from Spain originally, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah.” Alec is a little surprised he knows that, but he supposes that the Shadowhunters do keep files on most of the warlocks. “Sevilla. Well, actually a little village about twenty miles north of Sevilla, but – ” He waves his hand to indicate that the details aren’t important.

“What brought you to New York?”

“Izzy.” A faint smile touches Alec’s face. “She likes to move around. But I liked the city, so I stayed here even when she decided to go live in Rome for a while.”

“You know, I admit, I’m somewhat curious,” Magnus says. “I know that you call Izzy your sister, but it’s very rare for warlocks to have siblings. Is she actually?”

“Uh, yeah. Actually.” Alec finishes off his beer and wonders whether or not a third one would be a bad idea. He doesn’t even really like beer, but the alcohol is definitely taking the edge off.

Magnus sees the look on his face and says, “I’m sorry. I suppose that was quite personal, given the – history – that many warlocks have.”

“Yeah. It was a long time ago, though.” Alec gives a little shrug. “A lot of mothers are upset when their children’s warlock marks appear, when they realize what it means. Our mother was actually relieved. She had been trying to convince everyone for years that there was a demon who came to her in the night, but nobody believed her. They just thought she was crazy. Of course, then the villagers tried to burn us at the stake and we ended up running across Europe for our lives, but you know, it was the seventeenth century. There was a lot of that going on back then.”

Magnus winces. “Still, I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”

“Not the best time of our lives, no.” Alec clears his throat. “I’m going to get another beer. You want anything?”

“I’ll take a Cosmo if you’re buying,” Magnus says with a wink, and Alec flushes pink and nearly trips over his own feet leaving the table.

He manages to get the drinks and get back to the table without an incident, and he’s trying to remember what his conversational topics were when Magnus asks what he likes to do with his free time and he remembers one of them. “I, uh, I read a lot,” he says, aware in that moment of how lame he must sound.

“Oh?” Magnus looks more interested than Alec thinks the topic deserves. “Who’s your favorite author?”

“It kind of depends on what I’m in the mood for,” Alec says. “I mean, I think Dostoyevsky’s amazing but sometimes I just want to read Harry Potter, you know?”

“Absolutely. Hm . . .” Magnus leans back and looks Alec up and down. “I would have said you were a Gryffindor, but if you love reading so much, maybe you’re a Ravenclaw.”

Alec flushes pink. Magnus is a _nerd_. He’s in so much trouble. “I, uh, I’m definitely not a Gryffindor, so yeah, Ravenclaw is probably more accurate. What about you? You seem like you could be a Gryffindor.”

“Oh, Heavens no. I’m a Slytherin,” Magnus says, laughing. “Well, maybe with touches of Hufflepuff. But when you get right down to it, the sorting system is rather silly. It’s like saying a person can’t be loyal _and_ ambitious _and_ brave all at the same time. But my devious ways place me squarely in Slytherin, or so I’ve been told.”

“I’ll take note of that,” Alec says. “Anyway, yeah, I don’t think I have a favorite author per se.”

“Well, how about this? If you were abandoned on a desert island – work with me here – what three books would you bring? Don’t say ‘how to build a raft’. There are no raft materials on this imaginary island.”

Alec snorts. “Um, probably . . . One Hundred Years of Solitude, Pride and Prejudice, and . . . Good Omens.”

Magnus looks delighted. “Excellent choices! I love everything by Neil Gaiman, to be honest . . . though for Jane Austen, I think I would choose Persuasion.”

“They’re both good,” Alec says. “I just like Mr. Darcy.”

“Well, who doesn’t?” Magnus asks, and then he’s laughing and Alec is smiling despite himself. Magnus asks how he feels about movie adaptations, which ends in a very spirited discussion, and he barely realizes how much time is passing. It’s after ten before Magnus phone buzzes and he glances down at it and then makes a face. “Duty calls, I’m afraid. But I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Alec says. “I mean.” He thinks back to his parting line and absolutely cannot bring himself to deliver it out loud. He doesn’t care what Izzy says. “Let me know what you want to try the memory spell again.” He realizes that was too formal; it makes it sound like he doesn’t want a second date. “Or another game of pool.” That’s good, that’s casual.  “Good luck with your, uh, your demon-killing,” he finishes, and Magnus laughs and thanks him before leaving the bar. Alec watches him go, because he really does have one of the nicest asses that he’s ever seen. Then he ducks into the alley so he can portal home.

Izzy is, not surprisingly, waiting for him. She’s called Jace, and he’s there too, and they’re both looking at him expectantly. When he doesn’t immediately start regaling them with details, Izzy demands, “So?”

“So,” Alec says, and then huffs out a sigh. “I guess going out on a date in this century isn’t _that_ bad.”

Jace laughs. Izzy squeals, then says, “Did you tell him how hot he is and how it should be illegal?”

“No, Izzy, I did not,” Alec says. She pouts at him. “We did, uh, we did talk about books, though. And some other things. He, uh, he’s really good at pool. Interrogation over? Great, okay, I’m going to – ”

“Interrogation not over!” Izzy says. “Did you agree to see him again? Did you kiss?”

“Did you French?” Jace asks, trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh my God, you two,” Alec says, flushing even darker pink. “He had to go do Shadowhunter business. He said he hoped he’d see me again soon, and I told him to call me. I think. I mean, that’s basically what I said. And no, we did not kiss, or French, and also, who says ‘French’ anymore?”

Jace just shrugs. “So it went well? Great. My work as moral support is done.” He claps Alec on the shoulder and says, “Nice going,” before he jogs out of the loft.

Izzy rolls her eyes at his departure. She watches Alec as he fiddles at his phone, half-hoping that Magnus would have texted him already. Almost gently, she says, “You really like him, don’t you.”

“Yeah,” Alec admits. “Thanks for making me go. I had a good time.”

Izzy springs up and plants a kiss on his cheek. “Come on. The night is young, and you have to give me every single, solitary detail before I’ll be satisfied.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“So are you really doing this?” Raphael asks, as he and Magnus jog up the front steps to the Institute.

“Which part?” Magnus asks.

“Going on dates with Lightwood.”

“I _went_ on a date with Lightwood,” Magnus says, and smirks slightly despite himself. “Though I do plan to invite him on a second one and see if I can get a kiss next time. Why do you ask?”

Raphael sighs as they go through the doors. It’s nearly dawn, and the Institute is quiet, with only a few of the people who monitor for demonic activity still up. “Look, Magnus. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Magnus just gives him a questioning look.

“Date a warlock,” Raphael adds. “The Clave won’t like it.”

At this, Magnus rolls his eyes. “The Clave,” he says, “can kiss my beautiful ass.”

“Damn it, Magnus – ” Raphael grabs him by the shoulder and shoves him against the wall. “Think about what you’re doing! Do you even realize what could happen? The Clave already hates the fact that you talk to Downworlders _at all_. They only tolerate your flings with the seelie because you can get information that way. They were pissed enough about that thing with the vampires last year. You start dating a warlock? They’re going to think you’re compromised.”

“They can think whatever they want,” Magnus says

“And what about when thinking leads to doing?” Raphael challenges. “They’ll send an envoy here. They’ll re-open every case we’ve worked in the last two years and go over them with a fine tooth comb. They’ll bitch about the Downworlders we’ve worked with and find things to blame on us, make you a scapegoat for everything that’s gone wrong in this city since you came here. They’ll send Ragnor back to Idris after everything he’s done for you. Is that what you want? Do you want Ragnor to lose this Institute?”

Magnus shakes Raphael off. “I would never let them do that.”

“As if you could stop them!” Raphael swears in Spanish. “What is about this Lightwood guy that makes him worth that? Pretty boys are a dime a dozen. You could get any hot piece of ass you wanted, any time. Hell, you’re not even restricted to fifty percent of the population like most people. So why take the risk?” Raphael’s voice softens a little. “Is it because he let you see your mother?”

“It’s not like that,” Magnus says. “Yes, he’s cute, he’s fun, I like him. But it’s not about him. It’s that the Clave has _no_ right to tell me who I can and cannot associate with. I will be friends with, and be lovers with, anyone I damned well please. If they have a problem with that, they can deal with it.”

Raphael sighs, pushing both hands through his hair. “Fine,” he says. “Do what you want – you always do. But when the Clave shows up, when they send Ragnor back to Idris and exile the two of us to an Institute in Siberia – don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

Magnus closes his eyes for a moment. “Fair enough. I don’t want that to happen, Raphael. I’ll do everything within my power to prevent it.”

“Except not date Alec Lightwood.”

“Except that.”

Raphael gives a snort of laughter despite himself. “It’s too early for this bullshit. I’m going to bed.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Don’t panic if he doesn’t text or call you today,” were Izzy’s parting words as she left the loft. “It’s not cool to look too eager. He’ll probably text you tomorrow. If he doesn’t, you can text him, something simple like ‘I had a good time on Saturday’. Got it?”

“Fine,” Alec says, rolling his eyes and trying not to give away the fact that he appreciates her instructions.

Magnus does, in fact, text him the next day, with ‘I had a great time the other night’ and a winking emoji. Alec tries to pretend that this completely mundane text doesn’t have his face flushed pink. He responds ‘me too’ and then wonders whether or not he should just become a hermit on the other side of the world somewhere.

Apparently not, because fifteen minutes later, Magnus texts again. ‘Ready to try the memory spell again. Can we do tonight, or do you need more notice?’

‘Tonight’s fine,’ Alec says, as his stomach flutters at the idea of seeing Magnus again. He tells it to settle the hell down. ‘Eleven PM?’

‘I’ll be there,’ Magnus replies.

Alec puts his phone aside and tugs nervously at the feathers at his temple. He spends most of the day trying to decide what to wear, which is ridiculous on multiple levels, mostly because he really only owns eight copies of the same two outfits. He knows texting Izzy will only result in ridicule, so in the end he just wears the same V-neck T-shirt and jeans he had worn to do the spell last time.

Magnus shows up in a much more simple outfit than usual, which makes sense now that he knows he’s going to be submerged in a pool of water. He’s wearing a flannel shirt and black slacks, and Alec has no idea why that’s so sexy on him but it absolutely is. He wants to bring Magnus back to the loft and start a fire in the fireplace and cuddle with him on the sofa. He wants to do that _immediately_. Then Magnus starts unbuttoning his shirt and he has to turn away and clear his throat several times.

“So are we going to work on the same memory?” he asks, as he wades into the pool.

“For now, yeah,” Alec says. “We’re peeling back the obscuring spell a layer at a time. Each time should reveal a little more. When this memory is clear, we can move on to another one, if we haven’t recovered enough information.”

“Okay.” Magnus lets himself float on his back. “I need one of these in my room. You should try it, Raphael.”

“Pass,” Raphael says, where he’s leaning against the door.

Alec snorts a little as he steps into the pool next to Magnus, putting his hands on the water and infusing it with his magic. He cradles Magnus’ face in his hands, ignoring the little thrill that the feeling of Magnus’ skin gives him. His focus has to be precise here, or he risks doing more harm than good. Concentration is crucial.

Getting Magnus back into the memory is easy. He’s recalling little details now, like the fact that the clock read half past noon, and the man his mother was with was wearing a leather jacket. But he still can’t get past the part where the man pulled him out of the house.

When Alec ends the spell, Magnus is breathing hard and clearly upset. “If – If I could only remember a little more – ”

“Hey,” Alec says. “This is a slow process. You have to be patient.”

Magnus manages a smile at this. “Patience has never been one of my strong suits.”

Alec gives an uncomfortable little shrug. “I did warn you.”

“You did.” Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry if I’m being too demanding.”

At this, Alec is the one who laughs. “Magnus, you’re the _least_ demanding nephilim I’ve ever met. I mean, seriously? You at least _asked_ me if I could do this spell, and offered to pay before I even brought it up. Most of the Shadowhunters I’ve met over the years show up without invitation, order me to help them, and threaten to bring me before the Clave for obstruction if I don’t comply.”

Magnus grimaces. “Yes, well. The Clave is full of assholes.”

“I’m aware,” Alec says, his voice dry. “But I’m a little surprised you are.”

“They didn’t want to take me in.” Magnus hoists himself up to sit on the edge of the pool. “When I showed up, I was ten years old and had nothing but the clothes on my back, a stele, and three runes on my skin. Some of them tried to say I couldn’t really be a Shadowhunter. Others thought that because I had no family and no name, it wasn’t worth their time to train me. If Ragnor hadn’t been in charge of the New York Institute, I might have wound up right back on the street. He took me in, he trained me. I fought twice as hard to get half the recognition that a Shadowhunter from a prestigious family would get. They’re classist pieces of shit, most of them.”

“Like the Purebloods?” Alec asks, smiling despite himself. “In Harry Potter?”

Magnus laughs. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

Raphael groans. “Oh God. Nerd talk.”

Magnus flips him off. “Anyway. I’m one of the best at what I do, and most of them still look at me like they wouldn’t even spit in my direction. Which only makes me wonder more about where I came from.”

“Shadowhunters don’t often leave the fold,” Alec agrees. “I assume that you’ve looked into that.”

“I and every Shadowhunter I trained under,” Magnus says. “Everybody was curious about it. Most people assume that my mother was one of the people marked as dead during the Uprising, when in reality she ran away. But that doesn’t narrow it down very much.”

Alec nods a little. “The Uprising . . . that would have been around the same time you were born, right?” he asks, and Magnus nods. “Maybe, if she knew she was pregnant, she ran away in order to protect you.”

Raphael has been listening silently, and at this, he interjects. “She didn’t have a Circle rune, did she?”

“No,” Magnus says. “At least, not in the memory I have of her.”

“Why would she run, then?” Raphael asks. “Why not go to one of the Institutes for protection, or take refuge in Idris?”

“If I knew that, we wouldn’t be here,” Magnus points out.

“Fair enough,” Raphael says.

Alec looks at Magnus and says, “You want to try again? I think we’re safe for one more try. I want to see if we can rewind the memory a little, to clear out some of the fog on what happened right before your mother sent you away with Luke. Whoever that is.”

“Okay.” Magnus wades back into the pool.

Alec concentrates, pours his magic into the water, but it does little good. The memory is like a fixed point of light in a field of darkness. No matter how much he tries to peel away the dark, there are still more layers. Finally, exhausted, he calls a halt to the proceedings.

“Thank you for trying,” Magnus says, as Raphael helps him out of the pool. “How about I take you out to dinner in payment?”

“You already paid me, Shadowhunter.”

Magnus smiles. “How about I take you out to dinner because I really want to take you out to dinner?”

Alec flushes pink. “Okay.”

“Wednesday. Seven o’clock. I’ll pick you up.”

“Nothing too formal,” Alec blurts out, and then clears his throat when he sees Magnus look at him. “I, uh, I don’t own the kind of clothes you need to get into some of the restaurants around here.”

Magnus laughs quietly. “That’s okay. I’m not really a fan of those restaurants with snobby waiters and rules about what kind of jacket you have to wear. I know a great Ethiopian place right around here. See you then?”

“Yeah,” Alec says. “See you then.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	4. Chapter 4

 

“So who is Valentine Morgenstern?” Magnus asks curiously, after they’ve ordered their drinks and the waitress has gone to get them.

“You didn’t read the file?” Alec asks.

“I did. I suppose a better question would be, why are you interested in him?”

Alec hesitates, glancing down at the menu for a distraction, as the waitress sets down their drinks. She asks if they’re ready to order, and since he’d rather talk about that, he says yes. When she departs a minute later, Magnus says, “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I realize it’s not really my business.”

“No, it’s just . . . I’m wondering where to start.” Alec takes a drink of his iced tea. “So you met Izzy, but I don’t think you met Jace, did you?”

“There are some references to him in your file. A vampire, isn’t he?”

“Sort of.” Alec fiddles with his napkin. “Look, if you read Morgenstern’s file, you know that he was obsessed with doing experiments. Jace is one of them. He was originally just a regular warlock, the son of some woman that Morgenstern knew. But she died – was killed by Morgenstern – and Morgenstern took Jace in as some kind of pet project. Injected him with demon blood and vampire blood and just – did all sorts of weird shit.”

Magnus grimaces. “That’s awful.”

“So Jace has some vampire qualities, some warlock, some human. He’s caught in this weird sort of limbo. He doesn’t age, but he can still get sick like a human. Normally he can eat regular food but sometimes he gets these intense spells of blood craving. We’ve been trying to find Morgenstern for the past fifty years in the hopes that we can get more detail on exactly what he gave Jace, and maybe find a way to help him.”

“Did the files help at all?”

“No.” Alec sounds a little disgusted. “Just more stuff we already knew. I guess you guys don’t care about Morgenstern as long as he’s only experimenting on Downworlders and not humans.”

Magnus gives a little wince at that. “He was most recently sighted in Kiev. I could talk to the Institute there – ”

“It’s fine,” Alec interrupts. Then he seems to realize how standoffish it came out, and flushes pink. “It’s not your problem.”

“Still, it was payment – ”

“You paid what I asked. Not your fault it didn’t help.”

Magnus considers this while he takes a drink of his beer. “Shall I be honest with you, Alexander?”

Alec gives him a wary look. “Should you?”

“I know damned well you’re undercharging me. The file on Morgenstern would have been payment for one spell. You’ve taken me on as a long-term project. And I appreciate that, more than words can say. But if there’s anything I can do to help you, I do feel I would owe it to you. Especially since the original payment didn’t really provide what you needed.”

Alec’s face is an even darker pink now, all the way up to the tips of his ears. “That, uh, that’s nice of you. But to be honest, I didn’t really undercharge you on purpose. I mean, I don’t really work with nephilim very often. I have no idea what the going rate is. Izzy’s the one who profits off her talents. I help her out when she needs it, but I don’t do magic for other people on a regular basis.”

“Why not?” Magnus asks, curious. Most warlocks can’t wait to show off their talents, and someone as powerful as Alec could make a mint.

“I, uh . . .” Alec clears his throat. “I was uncomfortable with my magic for a long time. Izzy’s always loved to show off and have a good time, but . . . let’s just say that getting burned at the stake can really change a person. I always tried to hide my powers. Even now, when everything’s changed so much, I can’t just put an ad in the yellow pages.”

“That makes sense to me,” Magnus says.

“Yeah?” Alec seems a little skeptical.

“Mm hm.” Magnus glances up as the waitress comes over with their food, and waits until she’s gone and they’ve both eaten the first few bites to speak up again. “I had some interesting experiences at the Shadowhunter Academies. Here I was, this runt from nowhere, nothing but my name and a stele. And I was _good_. The other kids hated it.”

“Buncha Malfoys,” Alec says sagely.

Magnus snickers. “Pretty much exactly that, yes. I got bullied a fair amount. And at the Shadowhunter Academy, complaining to an instructor gets you precisely nowhere. They’re very much a ‘survival of the fittest’ group. If you’re not strong enough to handle the bullies, you’d be a terrible Shadowhunter anyway, so why waste time worrying about you?

“So when I transferred the first time, from Los Angeles to Beijing, I hid how good I was. Pretended I didn’t understand, took extra lessons so I could make it look like I needed more time to master the runes. And it worked. I was one of the crowd. Made friends for the first time. It actually took a lot of work, making sure I stayed at the middle of the pack in just about every subject, from magic to mathematics to physical combat.”

“I can imagine,” Alec says, studying him with those beautiful eyes. “And?”

“And I hated it,” Magnus says, and Alec laughs. “I hated pretending I was someone I wasn’t. I hated the looks on the instructors when they explained something to me for the third time, when I knew that I was stronger than they were. Then I got transferred again, to Mexico City, which is where I met Raphael.”

“He’s your parabatai, isn’t he?” Alec asks.

Magnus nods. “You might have noticed that he’s not overly interested in other peoples’ opinions about him,” he says, and Alec laughs. “He had grown up at that Institute, and he had already dealt with his share of Malfoys. He’s from one of the lower class families, and a lot of people thought he didn’t have any right to be as good as he was.

“We were sparring partners, and he figured out after a week that I was a lot better than I was letting on. He reamed me out for it, too. Asked how he was supposed to improve if I wasn’t going to help him. I told him the problem, and to be honest I thought he’d laugh at me, but he got it. Because he dealt with the same thing. I asked how he dealt with it, and he said there was only two ways to deal with bullies. Beat them or join them. I joined them. He wanted to beat them. He said the only way to get them to shut up about how good we were was to be the _best_. That was what he was aiming for. And if I wasn’t going to aim for it right along with him, I could take my useless ass back to Beijing.”

“How kind of him,” Alec says with a snort.

“Raphael’s not the sort of person for platitudes,” Magnus says. “But he said exactly what I needed to hear. I decided that day to be the best, and that anyone who didn’t like it, they would just have to deal with it.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Actually, quite well!” Magnus smiles, a bit of a smug expression. “I’m good enough at what I do that the Clave doesn’t really care if I make friends with Downworlders. And by ‘doesn’t really care’, I mean ‘talk shit about me behind my back, but look the other way instead of making my life difficult’.”

“That actually explains something I’ve been wondering about for the last few years,” Alec says, and Magnus gives him a questioning look. “I mean, I’ve been in New York City for almost a century now, and I’ve been the High Warlock almost as long. Things used to be kind of a mess, you know? Which culminated in the Uprising. There was a lot of mutual distrust after that. Downworlders and Shadowhunters were barely speaking to one another. If a Shadowhunter could be arsed to protect one of us, it was always just out of a sense of duty. If they needed something from us, whether it was information or assistance with a spell or anything, they would show up and make demands, and nobody was comfortable telling them no. But in the last five to ten years, I had noticed it was getting better. That Downworlders were less likely to be staying in their hiding holes, more able to be out and about without worrying. I guess that coincides with when you took charge.”

“Oh, I’m not in charge,” Magnus says, laughing. “That’s Ragnor. He’s the Head of the Institute. But I do have to admit that before I showed up, the lead Shadowhunter taking cases here _was_ a real piece of work. I guess you’d say I’m the senior field agent. Well, Raphael and I are of equal standing, but he generally lets me take point because I’m better at combat. He’s more of an intellectual. Which isn’t a bad thing – I’ve seen him connect the thinnest threads to put together a complete picture.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Alec says. “Things are better here now, and I have to admit that if even I noticed, it must actually be pretty dramatic.”

“Thanks,” Magnus says, and glances away briefly. “Though I’m a little uncomfortable accepting your praise. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Treating Downworlders like they’re people. I don’t know why it is.”

“A lot of reasons, I think. Envy, fear, prejudice.” Alec shakes his head. “This is too heavy, huh? Let’s talk about something else.”

“All right. Enjoying the food?”

“Yeah, it’s really good,” Alec says. “Hey, you said it was Mumbai that had the best food, right?”

Magnus laughs. “I’m surprised you remember that. Yes, I love Indian food.”

“I should take you there next time. India, I mean.” Alec looks somewhat hesitant, and adds hastily, “If, you know, if you wanted to, we don’t have to – ”

“I would love to,” Magnus says, smiling at Alec’s adorable stammering. “There is this _fantastic_ hole-in-the-wall café only about three blocks from the Institute there. I’ve missed it incredibly.”

“Okay.” Alec’s smile in response is hesitant, but genuine. “Then maybe I can take you to Spain. Sevilla, Cadiz – even after all the years away, it’s still my favorite place in the world.”

“That sounds fantastic.” Magnus picks up his drink and clinks it against Alec’s. “I’ll look forward to it.”

 

 ~ ~ ~ ~

 

When they meet for the next session, Alec says he thinks he’s done all he can with the first memory. On the upside, Magnus has started having more little flashes. One of them is of voices in the dark, and it intrigues him, so that’s what he focuses on once he’s floating in the pool.

“I’m in bed,” he realizes immediately. “My mother . . . she’s come to check on me. She’s talking to somebody . . . she doesn’t realize I’m awake.”

“Who is she talking to?” Alec asks, his voice calm and firm as always.

“Luke, I think.” Magnus closes his eyes so he can focus more on the voices in the memory. Luke’s voice is warm and rich.

“You said the first time that you didn’t think you had met Luke before,” Alec says.

“Yes . . . that’s right.”

“So when you and Luke split off from your mom, you must have met up with her again later,” Raphael comments. He’s taken to sitting at the edge of the pool with his legs tucked underneath himself. His voice always seems like it’s coming from further away, which Magnus assumes has something to do with the magic.

“We were always running,” he says, not even thinking about it. “We lived in so many places. We never stayed anywhere for very long.”

“Why?” Alec asks gently.

“I don’t know,” Magnus says. “I don’t think I ever knew.”

“Okay. That’s fine. Just focus on the memory. What are they saying?”

Magnus focuses on the beginning of the memory, where Luke had quietly asked, “Is he sleeping?” and his mother had confirmed with a murmur. “Rough day for the kid,” Luke added, and Magnus remembered that they had just moved again. It had been a long day in the car, but he had slept a lot of the way. Maybe that was why he wasn’t sleeping now.

“I can’t keep doing this, Luke,” his mother said. She sounded exhausted. “It doesn’t matter where we go. He’s always one step behind me.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Luke said.

“I can’t keep running.”

“Then we’ll find another way to keep both of you safe.” Luke was quiet for a moment, then said, “Come on. You need to get some rest.”

Magnus is quiet, and when Alec calls his name, he startles, suddenly opening his eyes. “Ah, I’m sorry. I think I fell asleep in the memory, so I sort of fell asleep here.”

“That one seemed really clear, didn’t it?” Raphael asks.

“Probably because there was so little to focus on,” Alec says. “Just the voices, nothing else. How are you feeling? Do you want to try another?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.” Magnus closes his eyes again. Emboldened by his success, he reaches for a memory of which he’s only had the tiniest flicker. It’s the feeling of the sun on his back and aching feet. It intensifies as the magic swirls around him, putting him back inside that moment. They were walking down the side of the road. It was hot out, and the sun was beating down on them. His mother was holding his hand, and he was whining about how far they’d had to walk.

“It’s only a little bit further, sweetheart,” his mother said.

“We’ve been walking forever,” Magnus said. “I’m hungry.”

“We’ll get something to eat once we’re there.”

Magnus watched a few cars go by. “Can’t we get a ride?”

“No, honey, not this time. It’s not safe.”

The memory fades and blurs, dissolving. Magnus struggles for more of it, but nothing comes. The water feels good against his skin as he returns to the present, cool after the heat of the remembered sun. “I think I was younger in that one. I felt younger.”

“You sounded younger,” Raphael says, and Magnus gives him a somewhat offended look. “I’m not saying it because you were whining – even though you were. It was just the way you were talking. Simpler words and sentences.”

“So that one might have been a little less useful than the others,” Magnus says, and sighs.

Raphael shrugs. “It tells us that whatever you and your Mom were running from, it was a long-term problem. That’s good to know.”

“I suppose.” Magnus looks at Alec and says hopefully, “One more?”

Alec agrees to one more, but once Magnus is in the pool, trying to focus, the memories seem harder to reach. There are bits and pieces, but Alec can’t uncover them. After about a half hour, they give up. “It just takes time,” Alec reminds him. “I’m surprised we got two in one session as it is. Go home, get some sleep.”

Magnus sighs and nods. “All right. Are we still on for Saturday?”

Alec turns an appealing pink. “Yeah, uh. It’s a nine-hour time difference between here and Mumbai, so – I’ll meet you at nine AM?”

“Okay,” Magnus says, and Raphael rolls his eyes, muttering something about warlocks and their fancy dates that include dinner in a time zone nine hours away. Magnus ignores him. “I’ll see you then.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Magnus has just finished choosing his outfit for their third date, and is about to get into the shower, when his phone rings. He sees that it’s Alec’s number and picks up, “Hello, Alexander.”

“Hey, uh.” Alec sounds distracted, anxious. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to cancel for today.”

“Is everything all right?” Magnus asks.

“Yeah. Well, sort of.” Alec sighs. “Jace is having an episode, and Izzy isn’t strong enough to hold him if he loses control, so I have to stay with him.”

“Perhaps I could come over?” Magnus offers.

“No, he doesn’t like people seeing him like this. Plus he might try to eat you, like, literally. I don’t know for sure when I’ll be free. The spells usually only last a couple of days, but sometimes they go on for longer. I’ll call you when everything is sorted out.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Magnus says. They say their goodbyes and hang up. He sighs a little wistfully. He hadn’t realized exactly how much he was excited to see Alec again. After their dinner at the Ethiopian restaurant, they had gone for a walk in the park and ended up talking for over another hour. Alec is still hesitant, sometimes shy, letting Magnus in slowly. Magnus is content to let him take things at his own pace, despite the urge to push him up against a wall and kiss him like crazy.

He goes downstairs to work out, knowing that it’s the best cure for the energy he’s bottled up, and after that there’s a mission. The next afternoon, he texts Alec with just a brief, ‘How are things going?’ It doesn’t get a reply, so an hour later he adds, ‘I’m sure you must be busy. Just let me know when you have a chance to talk.’

Four days pass, and he still hasn’t heard. He’s beginning to wonder if Alec is trying to ghost him, and he’s stopped wondering whether or not he’s driving Raphael crazy with incessantly talking about it. Then his phone chimes. ‘Sorry it’s been so long. Worst of it’s over now.’

Magnus is surprised, wondering if Alec has been up, sitting on Jace, for five days straight. ‘Don’t worry about it. You free?’

‘Right now all I want to do is sleep for twelve hours,’ Alec replies. ‘Tomorrow?’

‘Sure. I could swing by with breakfast?’ Magnus types, then hits send and holds his breath. It’s a bit of a bold move, since he hasn’t even been invited over to Alec’s loft yet.

‘Actually that sounds great,’ Alec replies, and Magnus does a quick fist pump after making sure nobody is looking. ‘Not too early though.’

‘Say ten thirty?’ Magnus asks, and Alec confirms. ‘Should I bring enough for Jace? Will he still be there?’

‘Izzy too, if you really don’t mind,’ Alec says.

‘Not at all. I’ll see you then, Alexander.’ Magnus tucks his phone away with a broad smile and then goes to find Raphael so he can give him the good news.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec wakes from a dead sleep to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. “Whazzit?” he mumbles, trying to pull the blankets up to cover his face.

“You want some breakfast?” Izzy asks, looking much too chipper for Alec’s taste. Then again, she hadn’t been up for five days straight and then sleeping for – what time is it? He fumbles for his phone but can’t find it. Izzy pulls the blankets back. “Come on, big bro. Up and at ‘em! Brush your hair and wash your face. You’ll feel better once you’ve cleaned up and gotten some food in your system.”

“Fine,” Alec groans, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He goes into the bathroom and does as instructed, then pulls on a pair of gym shorts before heading out into the living room. Jace is sprawled on the sofa, still sound asleep. Izzy is whistling in the kitchen. “Coffee,” he groans, shouldering past her.

“Juice,” Izzy says firmly, handing him a glass. “You need calories.”

“Then I’ll take it with sugar and cream,” Alec says, but drinks the juice anyway. It’s a longstanding argument, and he knows from experience that he won’t win. He’s about to ask where the food is when there’s a knock on the loft’s door. He blinks at it stupidly, and Izzy bounces past him and whips it open.

“Good morning!” she says to whoever’s there.

“Good morning, Isabelle.”

It’s Magnus’ voice, and Alec freezes. He’s suddenly very aware that he’s mostly naked, has no glamour on, and hasn’t brushed his teeth. He doesn’t scramble up the wherewithal to fix any of these problems before Izzy stands back to let Magnus in.

“Hello, Alexander,” Magnus says, setting a large paper bag on the counter.

“M-Magnus,” Alec stammers helplessly. “I, uh, sorry, I didn’t – didn’t know you were – I’ll go put some clothes on – ”

“Oh, that’s not necessary _at all_ ,” Magnus says, but he frowns slightly. “You did invite me.”

“I invited you!” Izzy says cheerfully. “Alec passed out yesterday after mumbling something about how he had to text you because you probably thought he was dead. I was just going to pretend to be him long enough to reschedule his date, but then you offered to bring breakfast so I said sure. What have you got? I’m starving.”

“Bagels.” Magnus starts to pull things out of the bag, including some containers of lox and cream cheese, a large container of fruit salad, and then the bagels themselves. “I wasn’t sure about coffee – I figured you probably had a coffee maker here but I can run out and get some if you need me to.”

“No, we’re good,” Izzy says. She kicks the sofa, and Jace wakes up with a start. “Breakfast.”

“Oh, thanks.” Jace wakes up instantly when confronted with food, and the fact that he’s not wearing anything more than Alec doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Alec, for his part, is still just standing there with his juice, feeling like an idiot.

“Is that chocolate babka?” Izzy asks, her mouth already full. “Oh my God. You know how to spoil a girl.”

Magnus smiles at her and confirms that it is, then looks at Alec. “I didn’t mean to drop in on you like this. If you’d like me to go – ”

“Oh, no,” Alec says hastily. “Sorry, I just.” He clears his throat, feeling his cheeks flush. “I should just – let me get dressed and get my face on – ”

“You don’t need to,” Magnus says. “Honestly. I like your face just the way it is.”

Flushing an even darker pink, Alec mumbles, “Yeah, uh,” and darts for his room. He pulls a T-shirt on and exchanges the gym shorts for a pair of jeans. He debates the glamour for a few seconds, peeking out into the other room. Neither Jace nor Izzy have bothered with theirs. In fact, Izzy is using her talons to spear strawberries out of the fruit salad. After a moment, he heads back towards the kitchen with his warlock marks still plainly visible.

“Bellini or mimosa?” Magnus asks him.

“Coffee,” Alec replies, and Magnus laughs. He goes over to the machine and gets himself a mug, adding some cream and sugar. “Thanks for doing this,” he adds, reaching for a bagel and a container of cream cheese.

“Think nothing of it. I’m just glad to see you again.”

“Yeah, uh, me, me too,” Alec stutters. He sees Izzy hide a giggle and quickly finishes putting his plate together. “Want to eat on the balcony?”

Magnus clearly understands that he wants to get away from his siblings, because he smiles and says, “That sounds lovely.” He picks up his mimosa and his plate and follows Alec outside. Once the door is shut, he says, “Does your sister often impersonate you over text?”

“Not usually. She was probably just worried I’d try to cancel our trip to Mumbai.” Alec flushes pink, not quite looking at him. “I was, uh, was a little nervous. About how I had to cancel last minute, then didn’t have time to talk to you for days. I might have convinced myself that you would want nothing to do with me after that.”

“You’re very hard on yourself, you know that?”

“It’s genetic.” Alec starts eating so he can stop talking.

“Well, I’m sorry I surprised you. Although I did enjoy the view,” Magnus says, with a wink.

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault that Izzy got me out of bed five minutes before you were due to show up, then didn’t tell me you were coming.” Alec is flushed faintly pink, but at least he’s managed to stop stammering. “Though she also could have just wanted to let me sleep as long as possible.”

“Rough few days?” Magnus asks.

“Yeah. It . . . it was a bad one.” Alec glances over at the door back into the house. “It’s hard, because I know if we just gave him blood when he was craving it, it would stop the . . . immediate problem. But we can’t do that. Not just because, you know, morals and the Accords and everything,” he adds, waving one hand, “but because we’re not sure what it would do to him. If it would send him further into . . . whatever he is, and further away from being human. He’s made me promise to _never_ give in to him, no matter how much he fights or begs. It’s hard, though, especially when it goes on for more than a couple days. I worry about what would happen to him, if it just . . . doesn’t stop, this time. I don’t even know if going without blood when he’s craving could kill him, if it goes on too long. That’s why we need to find Valentine. We need answers.”

Magnus reaches out and touches Alec’s wrist. “Let me talk to the people in Kiev,” he says gently. “To see if they know anything, if they could maybe send a few Shadowhunters out looking for him. Not as a payment. Just as a friend.”

“You can’t,” Alec says, turning his attention back to his bagel.

“And why not?”

“Because . . .” Alec sighs. “A Shadowhunter coming to a warlock for help, that’s not a big deal. You guys demand help from us all the time, and we’re expected to provide it. But a Shadowhunter helping a warlock? The Clave wouldn’t like it.”

“The Clave doesn’t dictate my actions.”

“That’s true. And if you were offering to ask around New York City, delegate some of your own guys, I’d let you. But you’re talking about involving another Institute. People there will ask questions. Word will get back to the Clave. You being here, in New York City – that’s important to me.” Alec studiously spears a piece of pineapple. “And it’s important to the Downworld, to the people who live here, who depend on you actually treating them equally. I don’t want to risk the Clave removing you from your position. We’ll figure things out.”

Magnus sighs. “All right. For now, at least. But if you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will. Thanks.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I learned so much about gazpacho while writing this chapter. Hopefully I didn't get anything wrong. =D

 

Magnus gets busy with work, and it’s another week before they finally get to Mumbai. They enjoy it immensely, or at least Magnus knows he enjoyed it and he assumes that Alec did, too. They do some sight-seeing and linger over dinner for several hours.

Once they get back, they get back to work on Magnus’ memories. He’s a little frustrated with the pace, even with Alec’s repeated warnings. It seems like some of the clearest memories came through more easily than Alec would have expected, and now he’s spending over an hour in the pool just to get the barest glimpse of a past event. Raphael takes note of the details, and they continue to build a picture, but he’s starting to realize that it will be months or even years before it’s complete. Izzy occasionally joins them for these sessions, too – she’s not as powerful a warlock as her brother, but she can contribute when a memory is being particularly recalcitrant.

“So you said southern Spain where you grew up?” Magnus asks, as Alec opens the portal to get them to Seville.

“Yeah, I lived there until I was a teenager.” Alec gestures Magnus through the portal. It’s always a bit of an experience, going through a portal, coming out somewhere with a different temperature, different smells and sounds. “Have you ever been?” Alec adds, as Magnus reacclimates.

“I’ve been to the Madrid Institute on business a few times,” Magnus says, “but never to southern Spain.”

Alec smiles a little and says, “Sevilla has amazing parks and museums, but it’s famous for the cathedral. Come on, let me show you.”

Magnus follows him down the road. They’d come out in an unused alley, and the streets are busy. His Spanish is fairly good, although he’s learned it from Raphael and so it’s a little different from classical Spanish. At first, Alec is talking about the places that he loves in Seville and where he wants to go. But he falters after a few minutes, and then falls silent as they enter the cathedral itself.

It’s a breathtaking sight, and Magnus wants to really drink it in, but he’s concerned with the way Alec has gone quiet. He half turns to look at him and says, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I . . .” Alec swallows convulsively. “I – I’m sorry, I thought I could come back here, I thought I was ready – it’s been almost a century and I – ”

“Is it the cathedral, or is it Seville?” Magnus asks, but Alec doesn’t answer. Magnus draws him aside, into one of the little nooks of the church, and leans in to say quietly, “Alexander, we can go if you’d like. No one will notice if you portal from here.”

At first, he thinks Alec hasn’t heard him, but then he gives a jerky nod and opens the portal with a wave of his hand. Magnus follows him through, finding himself back in Alec’s New York loft. Alec heads straight for the shelf of liquor and pours himself a stiff drink, then gulps it back before saying, “Sorry. I – just – sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

Alec doesn’t reply to that for a moment. Then he says, “Drink?”

“I’d love one.”

It’s still early in New York, barely even noon, but that doesn’t stop Alec from pouring each of them another shot of whiskey. Magnus takes his and sips it, while Alec knocks the second one back. Finally, Magnus says, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Alec shakes his head a little, but then says, “That cathedral – is where I met someone. He was – important to me. He died a long time ago, and I hadn’t been back since then.”

Magnus suspects that there’s a lot to this story that Alec isn’t telling him, but really, it’s none of his business. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I feel like being immortal must be very difficult, emotionally.”

“Yeah.” Alec looks at the bottle of whiskey, then puts it away and changes the subject. “Anyway, we could – we could go somewhere else if you wanted. It’s still early.”

“We could,” Magnus says, then adds, “Or we could order pizza and watch some movies.”

A slight smile touches Alec’s face. “That might be fun. Sal’s on the corner makes great pizza. They don’t deliver, but the alley behind their shop is always empty, easy to portal to and from.”

“Okay.” Magnus drifts over to Alec’s shelf of movies as he orders the pizza. It’s a lot of classics – Alfred Hitchcock and Akira Kurosawa, Clint Eastwood and James Dean. “I was thinking we might want something a little more light-hearted, to be honest.”

Alec puts down his phone and walks over. He looks at Magnus, then says, “Okay, but you have to promise not to tell Izzy.”

Magnus looks at him curiously. “Okay, I promise not to tell her, but _what_ am I promising not to tell her?”

Alec flicks his fingers, and a bit of magic moves the shelf aside, revealing another one set into the wall. It’s filled with Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, and other things of that variety. “It’s geek-topia,” Magnus says in some awe, and Alec lets out a choked laugh, which is a very welcome noise.

“It’s not that I don’t like the other stuff,” Alec says, gesturing at the shelf of classics, “but sometimes I’m just not in the mood.”

“Good Lord, you have Tremors!” Magnus is laughing. “Nobody else I know has ever even heard of it. The nephilim really have no appreciation for mundane culture.”

“I have all the sequels, too,” Alec says.

“There are _sequels_?”

“They’re so awful,” Alec says, grinning. “So, so awful. It’s amazing.”

“Well, let’s watch them, then,” Magnus says. Alec laughs and allows Magnus to tug him down onto the sofa. Magnus considers cuddling up to him, but then thinks better of the idea. Alec still hasn’t initiated any physical contact with him, and it’s so hard to tell if he wants it or not. Sometimes he’s not even sure if Alec realizes they’re dating, or if he thinks they’re just two people who like to hang out together. He makes a mental note that maybe he should ask Izzy about that, next time Alec’s not around.

In the meantime, he enjoys the movie, and the company. They’re every bit as amazing as Alec had said, and they end up watching three of them. By then it’s getting late, and Alec offers to make them dinner.

“You like spicy food, right?” he asks, digging around in his cabinets.

“I do,” Magnus agrees, “but don’t feel compelled to cater to me.”

“Well, since we didn’t eat in Sevilla, I have to make you gazpacho,” Alec says. “Traditional recipe. I actually still have my mother’s, but nobody recognizes it as gazpacho because tomatoes weren’t added until the nineteenth century.” He takes out a bag of bread and puts a few pieces in a bowl of water to soak. “Izzy still makes hers that way. But she does it the _real_ old-fashioned way, grinding everything with a mortar and pestle. She says it’s better that way. I say that blenders were invented for a reason.”

Magnus laughs quietly, as Alec starts taking vegetables out of the refrigerator. Then Alec pauses and says, “Sorry. This is probably pretty boring.”

“Not at all,” Magnus says. “I enjoy hearing your stories.”

Alec flushes a little pink, then clears his throat and says, “I actually like the red gazpacho better. There’s a hothouse on the roof here – so I can grow tomatoes all year long. You can’t get good vegetables in New York in the winter.”

Magnus sits down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, watching Alec with interest as he holds each tomato over the gas flame on the stove to loosen the skin. “I’m surprised you don’t just use magic to nip around the world and get them where they’re fresh.”

Alec hesitates a little, his hands pausing from where he’s skinning the first tomato. “I don’t mind growing them myself.”

“I suppose not. Still. You use magic less than any other warlock I’ve ever met. Most of them are always flinging it around. It comes as easily to them as breathing. You’re obviously very powerful and skilled, but you don’t . . .” Magnus sees the way Alec’s shoulders are tightening. “Ah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I’m sure you have your reasons.”

“Yeah.” Alec keeps his gaze focused on the tomato. “I mean, part of it is just – what I said before. Getting burned at the stake isn’t easy to forget. But.” He swallows hard, not looking up. “I, uh, I used magic in front of a mundane once. Saved him from a mugging. Paris, 1843. Long time ago.” He starts work on the next tomato. “He didn’t react well.”

“I’m sorry,” Magnus says, because however that story ended, it clearly wasn’t good.

“Yeah. So. Since then, I don’t actually use my magic very much, especially not in front of other people, even if they’re in the know. Not for stuff I can do without it. Although I’ll have to use it to chill the soup once it’s finished, if we want to eat any time soon.” He looks up and smiles slightly. “But I actually do enjoy gardening. I like growing things with my own hands.”

Magnus nods a little, and smiles back. “Can I help with anything over there?”

“Sure, if you want to chop some of the other vegetables while I work on the tomatoes.” Alec gets a second cutting board and a knife, and Magnus starts on the peppers. He keeps stealing glances at Alec’s hands, strong and confident, and imagining them doing other things. It takes effort to focus on what he’s doing.

An hour later, they’re eating the soup, and it’s delicious. “I’ve had gazpacho before at restaurants, but this is fantastic,” Magnus says.

Alec flushes again. “Like I said. Traditional recipe.” He eats a spoonful and then says, “I, uh. I really am sorry about what happened earlier. I honestly had no idea that being back there would affect me like that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Magnus says. “There are plenty of places we can go.”

“Yeah. Maybe someday, though. It would be nice to be able to go there again.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Magnus says. “Don’t rush on my account.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Despite the fact that the progress they’re making is proceeding at a snail’s pace, Magnus is growing to enjoy their twice-weekly sessions in the pool. Not just because Alec _still_ blushes when he takes his shirt off, but because it’s turned into something of a party. They’ll try the spell for about half an hour, then take a break and have something to eat, then try again, then take a break. Magnus thinks he even sees Raphael enjoying himself a couple of times.

“I’m so close to this one,” Magnus says, as Alec brings him out of trance after a fruitless half hour. “Let’s go a little longer, please.”

Alec hesitates, then says, “Tell you what – we’ll order the food and then we can work until it’s ready.”

“Fair enough,” Magnus says. There’s a brief debate over what to order and where to get it from, as there always is. They all have fairly diverse tastes, and they enjoy trying new things and recommending take-out joints to each other.

The memory he’s trying to decipher feels very close to the last one. His mother seems upset and afraid, and it’s affecting him, making it harder to notice detail. She’s on the phone with someone. “No, it _has_ to be New York,” she says. “I can’t leave him anywhere else.”

That part is clear as crystal, but after that it grows fuzzy. He’s trying to remember the rest of the conversation, to see _why_ she’s taking him to New York. If she mentions someone there, some reason, it might tell them something about her.

“Relax,” Alec says, his voice as calm and confident as it always is when he’s working the spell. “Just relax. Breathe. Look at the room. Look at your mother.”

Magnus sinks back into the trance, and his mother suddenly, loudly, says, “No! We have to do this. We can’t keep running. I can keep running, but _we_ can’t. I have to get away from him!”

“Whoa!” Alec says, as Magnus’ body flinches. He lifts him up out of the water. “Hey, you’re okay.”

Magnus shakes his head, trying to clear it. “It was very sudden, that’s all.”

“What did she say?” Raphael asks, and Magnus tells them. Raphael frowns and checks his notes. “That might be the first time she’s specifically trying to get away from a ‘him’.”

“Great, we’ve ruled out fifty percent of the world’s population!” Izzy says brightly. “Well. Actually more like fifty-two percent if you consider non-binaries – which we should since I know several – ”

Alec seems amused. “Great. Only forty-eight percent to go.” He climbs out of the pool, helping Magnus with him.

“If we could just – ” Magnus says.

“In a bit,” Alec says. “You agreed we would break for food. It should be ready any minute.”

Magnus sulks a little despite himself. He knows that Alec is right, knows that Alec does this because he wants to make sure he doesn’t hurt Magnus by pushing too far, too fast. It still annoys him, even as Alec’s phone chirps and he says, “Looks like it’s ready. I’ll head over and pick it up.”

“My turn to pay, right?” Raphael says, standing up. Alec nods and opens the portal, and steps through with Raphael behind him.

Magnus is distracted from his memories as he realizes he’s been handed a golden opportunity. He’s not often alone with Izzy, and this is undoubtedly the best chance he’ll get to talk to her. “May I ask you something, Isabelle?”

“Sure,” Izzy says, with a smile.

“It’s about your brother. I’m afraid we’re getting . . . crossed signals. It’s just so hard to tell if he’s even interested – not that I can fathom why he _wouldn’t_ be, but still.”

Izzy gives a snort at his utter lack of modesty, but answers honestly. “Oh, he’s interested. I’ve never _seen_ him so interested in somebody.”

“But interested in _what_?” Magnus says. “I guess that’s the question. We’ve been on four dates now, and he hasn’t . . . expressed any desire to take this beyond the friendship level.”

Izzy sighs. “Look. Alec’s got . . . history. There are details I can’t really give you, because it’s not my place. Here’s what I can say: you’re not crossing signals. He is very aware that you are dating, and that you’re interested in him as more than a friend. He’s interested in you the same way. I mean, he took you to Sevilla. He hasn’t been there in almost _a hundred years_. I thought he’d never go back, to be honest.”

Magnus doesn’t want to mention what actually happened during their aborted trip to Seville. “Then what should I do? I don’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for, but I don’t want him thinking that I’ve lost interest.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. He’ll get there.” Izzy pushes a hand through her hair. “Please be patient with him. It’s really hard for him, for reasons that . . . would be hard for you to understand. You’re just so young,” she adds with a laugh, and Magnus laughs too. “And I can’t really get it either, to be honest. I’ve had my share of flings, but I’ve never been in love, never . . . lost the sort of things that Alec has. He’s afraid of losing you, and it’s holding him back. But I think he’ll get past it, if we give him time.”

Magnus nods a little. “All right. I’ll keep on keepin’ on, then.”

Izzy smiles, then says, “I might have accidentally thrown a wrench in things, because I forbid him to talk about his exes with you.”

Magnus arches an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because my brother is an idiot,” Izzy says brightly. “And I was afraid he was going to go on that first date with you and spend the entire time talking about his past loves, and put you off of him completely.”

At this, Magnus gives a snort. “It _would_ have been disconcerting, I have to admit.”

“So . . . maybe ask him about them sometime. Not now, it’s too soon. I think you’ll know, when the time is right, when he’s ready to talk about it. Trust me, the fact that he’s loved and lost doesn’t make him any less capable of loving you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Isabelle.”

“You really like him, don’t you,” Izzy says, grinning.

“I do,” Magnus admits. “Like you, I’ve had plenty of flings, but I’ve never . . . felt like this about anyone before. Maybe it’s good that Alec’s keeping me from rushing into things. I probably would have gone much too fast otherwise.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Izzy looks up as a portal opens and the two men step back through, carrying their pizza. “Awesome, I’m starved. Let’s eat.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“You know, I was thinking,” Alec says, as Magnus pulls his shirt over his head. They’ve done this enough times now that he can continue to form complete sentences even while Magnus is getting undressed. “I want to try something different tonight.”

“Ooh, that usually leads somewhere fun,” Magnus says, with a wink that makes Alec turn a deep pink. “What do you have in mind?”

“Your runes. They have inherent magic to them. If I direct the spell to one of them, we might be able to uncover a memory of when you got them, what the circumstances were. You said you had three when you showed up in New York, right?”

Magnus nods. “The angelic power rune, a healing rune on my side, and the deflect rune on my neck,” he says, tracing his fingers along the latter.

“Deflect, that’s good. That’s something she would have done when she was hiding you. Let’s give it a try.”

“Okay.” Magnus floats on his back and closes his eyes. Izzy and Raphael watch in interest as Alec rests his fingertips along the deflect rune. It begins to glow, the red of the rune flaring in counterpoint with the blue of Alec’s magic lighting up the water.

“I’m in a car,” Magnus says, his voice a little hazy, like usual. “It’s . . . an older car. The seats are real leather. Brown.”

“Which seat are you in?” Alec asks.

“Front. Passenger.” Magnus’ eyes are open, and they move like he’s looking around. “I’m alone, though.”

“What do you hear?”

“I hear . . . waves. The ocean. I can smell the salt, too. It’s warm; we have the windows down. My mother’s coming. She . . . she’s drawing the rune on me, says it’ll keep me safe. We’re driving now. I can see the ocean. We’re going over a bridge. It’s very high.”

Alec frowns slightly, thinking about this. “Which side of the road are you on?”

There’s a pause. “The right. I can see ships in the harbor. Some of them look military.”

“That sounds like San Diego,” Raphael says, leaning forward. “I’ve been there a few times. There are a bunch of Naval bases, and a maritime museum in the harbor that has military ships.”

“Bridges, though?” Izzy murmurs, trying to stay quiet. “I was thinking more San Francisco.”

“San Francisco wouldn’t be warm in February,” Raphael says. “Plus it doesn’t have the naval presence. Probably the bridge to Coronado Island. That’s high, goes right over the harbor, just like he’s saying.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alec says, pulling his hands back and helping Magnus stand in the water, shaking off the vestiges of the spell. “San Diego, San Francisco – only one warlock on the west coast who could do a memory spell this good.”

Izzy claps and squeals. “We’re going to go see Clary?”

Alec sighs. “Yes,” he says. “We’re going to go see Clary.”

He sounds so hangdog that Magnus can’t help but smile. “Who is Clary?”

“She’s the High Warlock of Los Angeles,” Izzy says. “She’s cheerful, optimistic, friendly, and basically everything Alec hates in a person. They get along great. I’ll text her! It’s three hours earlier in California, so she might still be able to see us tonight.”

Magnus climbs out of the pool, and glances over at Alec as he uses magic to dry himself off. He finds himself more nervous than he would have expected, confronted with the possibility of finding the warlock who took his memories. “Can she restore my memories?”

“No,” Alec says. “No more easily than I can. That’s the difference between them being removed and being obscured. But if she did the spell, she’ll know who requested it be done and why. So that’s a good start.”

Magnus shivers a little as Alec flicks a finger and sends a hot rush of wind at him, instantly drying him off. He reaches for his clothes and starts to dress, and Izzy says, “Okay, we’re good! She says she’s heading home and will be there in about fifteen minutes. We can meet her there.”

“You do the portal,” Alec says to his sister. “I haven’t been to LA in fifty years. Not sure if I remember it well enough not to dump us out in the middle of a street.”

“On it,” Izzy says.

Alec takes Magnus by the elbow as he buttons his shirt. “Are you ready for this?”

“I’m . . . not sure,” Magnus admits. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” He looks over at Raphael, who gives him a reassuring nod. A few moments later, they step through the portal. Izzy says it’s rude to just turn up on someone’s doorstep, so they’re a few blocks away. It’s early enough that there’s still plenty of people out and about, but nobody really gives them a second look.

“Come on, this way,” Izzy says, as she starts walking down the street.

Clary lives in an apartment building done in the old Spanish style, and Magnus admires its beauty even while trying to tamp down his nervousness. Izzy knocks, and Clary opens the door a bare moment later, greeting Izzy with a hug. Her friendly face and bright red hair strike a chord of familiarity in Magnus, but no more memories resurface. “Izzy, it’s so good to see you!” Clary says, then looks at Alec and nods. “Alec.”

“Clary,” he says, with a return nod.

Magnus gives a quiet snort at the change in mood, and Clary’s gaze tracks over to him. Her eyes go wide. “No _way_. Magnus, is that you?”

Magnus is just as startled. “I – yes? I mean, my name is Magnus, but I have no idea if I’m the Magnus you’re referring to,” he replies.

“Of course, you wouldn’t,” Clary says. “Come on in! You guys want anything to drink? I’ve got some top shelf tequila.”

“We’re working,” Alec says.

“I’ll have one,” Izzy replies.

“Me too,” Magnus says, feeling like he could use it. Alec rolls his eyes at both of them, and Raphael leans against the door after it’s closed, arms folded over his chest. Clary gets them all a drink and then sits down across from Magnus. He knocks back his shot and says, “So you’re the one who took my memories?”

Clary winces. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was the right move, but Mei insisted.”

“Mei.” Magnus can barely choke out the word. “My mother?”

Clary nods. “She said that as long as you knew, you’d be in danger. It was safer for you if we took your memories and then brought you to an Institute, where they would keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” Magnus asks, hands tightening on the glass.

“Your father,” Clary says. “Asmodeus.”

Magnus flinches, and even Raphael is surprised. “Asmodeus,” he says. “ _The_ Asmodeus? Leader of the Circle, caused the Uprising, that Asmodeus?”

Clary nods. Magnus reaches for the bottle of tequila, feeling like one glass definitely isn’t going to be enough. Everyone knows the story of Asmodeus, his genocidal campaign against Downworlders and eventual fall from grace. It was the sort of abstract story people used to scare their children. In a hundred years, he never would have pictured it having any connection to him. He has nothing in common with the man who tried to exterminate the Downworld, or at least he certainly hopes he doesn’t.

“I thought he was dead,” Alec finally says, his voice tight. “If you knew he wasn’t, you should have said something to the rest of us. He killed hundreds, thousands of Downworlders. You just sat on the knowledge that he was still alive?”

“No,” Clary says evenly. “It was discussed at the Warlock Council, but you, being your curmudgeonly hermit self, didn’t see fit to attend.”

Alec grimaces. “Oh. Uh. Sorry,” he mutters, and Izzy rolls her eyes at him.

“Asmodeus was always looking for you, Magnus,” Clary says. “Your mother had to move around the world, trying to stay one step ahead of him. Finally, when you were old enough to get your first runes, when nobody could say you weren’t a Shadowhunter, she had me obscure your memories and then she brought you to the New York Institute. She knew Ragnor from the old days, knew he would take you in even if he didn’t know who you were.”

“Where did she go after that?” Magnus asks, trying to focus on his mother to avoid thinking about his father. “Did she keep running? Why didn’t she come with me, come back to the other nephilim?”

“Your mother was part of the Circle, until almost the very end. Asmodeus got out of control, and she finally left him. But I think she was afraid that the other Shadowhunters wouldn’t welcome her back, and that if they knew whose child you were, they would de-rune you, send you into exile, lest you take after your father.”

Magnus presses both hands against his mouth. “I can’t – can’t even think about my parents being in the Circle,” he finally says. “It’s so . . .”

“Foreign to everything you are,” Alec says, squeezing his shoulder. “We know. You’re nothing like him, Magnus.”

After a moment, Magnus manages to let out a breath and give Alec a grateful nod. To Clary, he says, “Do you have any idea where my mother is now?”

Clary opens her mouth, then closes it. She looks somewhat troubled. “I haven’t heard from her in years. I don’t know where she’s gone . . . or why she’s never contacted you. She told me that once you had graduated the Shadowhunter Academy and had a permanent post, that she would come find you. That by that point, nobody would be able to say you weren’t one of the nephilim, that it would be safe for your parentage to be revealed.”

“What if Asmodeus found her?” Raphael asks. “I hate to be the one to say it, but . . .”

“He wouldn’t have killed her,” Clary says. “Asmodeus was in love with her, the kind of love that bordered on obsession. He never would have killed her. But she could be his captive.”

“Or maybe she only said that to get you to take my memories,” Magnus says. “You said you didn’t want to do it.”

“I didn’t. I thought it wasn’t fair, deceiving you, taking away your only family. But she insisted. And . . . you’re right in that I only agreed after she told me that.” Clary shakes her head. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” Magnus says, his voice tight, his throat aching. “She ran from him for years and got sick of running. He couldn’t track her – but he could track me, since I was his son. So she erased my memories, dropped me on a doorstep, and washed her hands of me.” He stands up abruptly, the legs of the chair making an angry noise on the tile. “She never planned to come back for me.”

“Magnus, you don’t know that – ” Izzy says.

“No, I do,” Magnus says, “because of one of the memories. She said ‘I can run, but _we_ can’t’. She said ‘I have to get away from him’. I’ve thought for the past month that she was talking about whoever was chasing her, but that’s not true, is it? She meant she had to get away from _me_. Because once she had done that, he couldn’t track her anymore. She was nothing but a coward.”

“Magnus – ” Alec takes his shoulders and turns Magnus so they’re facing. He keeps his voice low and calm. “You’re upset. Which is fine. But let’s not jump to any conclusions. Okay? It’s a lot to take in, so let’s let it settle for a bit. We’ll figure this out.”

Magnus has to swallow hard, but then he manages a nod. Alec pulls him into an embrace, letting Magnus press his face into Alec’s shoulder, rubbing circles onto his back.

“Come on,” he says quietly. “I’ll take you home. Izzy, can you stay here and get as much information about Mei as you can?”

Izzy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll stick around here,” Raphael says. “I know more about Shadowhunters. Might be able to think of more details that’d be good to know.”

“Okay.” Alec lets go of Magnus, but takes his hand. “Let’s head back to New York.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	6. Chapter 6

 

Magnus is quiet as Alec lets them back into the loft, and Alec doesn’t really know what to say. He’s not good at conversations to begin with, and conversations in emotionally fraught circumstances are even worse. So the loft is quiet while he pours them both a shot of brandy and starts a fire in the fireplace. Magnus sits down on the sofa and stares into it while he sips his drink. “Whatever you want to say, just say it,” he finally says, his voice bitter. “You’re sure my mother loved me. She wouldn’t have abandoned me. I’m just overreacting.”

Alec sits down in the armchair across from him. “Maybe she did. Maybe she dropped you off at the Institute because she honestly thought that it was the best protection for you. Maybe she loved you so much that she was willing to give you up if it meant you would have a better life.” He sees Magnus’ mouth tighten and continues, “All that could be true, and you would still have every right to be angry with her.”

Magnus looks up, startled. “What?”

“She left you. You were young, and alone, and frightened. You’ve spent the last fifteen years wondering why she didn’t want you, why she sent you away. No matter why she did it, you have a right to be angry.”

Magnus sets the glass down with a clink and presses a hand over his mouth. “You’re . . . the only person who’s ever said that.”

Alec shrugs. “Maybe other people don’t understand it the way I do. Or maybe they’re just uncomfortable dealing with your anger, your grief, so they tell you that you don’t have any right to it.” He picks up the bottle of brandy and refills his glass. “You know how I said my mother was actually glad when my warlock marks turned up?”

“I remember,” Magnus says, nodding.

“Well, ‘glad’ is probably a bit too strong a word. She was relieved that she wasn’t crazy. But she also knew that it meant I really was the child of a demon – which meant Izzy was too, even though her marks hadn’t showed up yet. My mother was deeply religious. She . . . did not react well. Ever been exorcised?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure,” Magnus says dryly.

“It’s a unique experience that I recommend to absolutely nobody. I’ve been through it multiple times. I’ve been wrapped in a sheet and beaten. Been nearly drowned in pools of holy water. Had crosses carved into my skin. Any time I used my magic, even involuntarily, I got exorcised again. And through all of it, every single moment, my mother was by my side, praying. I know that she honestly thought it was what was best for me. That she was trying to save my soul from a fate she thought was unimaginable. But none of that makes it better. None of that makes what she did to me okay.”

Magnus nods a little and says quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Alec lets out a breath. “When I was fourteen and Izzy was twelve, her marks showed up. That was too much for the villagers. They tied us to stakes and set us on fire. My mother herself lit the pyres. She told me she was sorry. That she had to, that it would burn the demons out of us so our souls could go to Heaven. She told me she loved me and then tried to burn me alive.”

“God.” Magnus shakes his head. “I can’t imagine.”

“If it had just been me . . . I’d be dead.” Alec downs his shot of brandy. “I would have let them kill me. But Izzy. She was younger, she was scared. She didn’t have two years of exorcisms under her belt. When the flames reached her, she started screaming. I tried to save her . . . but I had no idea how to use my magic. I’d never been allowed to. I lost control.” He shakes his head a little and pours himself another shot. “When I finally put the pieces back together, the entire village was gone. There were six survivors. I killed probably two or three hundred people that day. Including my mother.”

Magnus reaches out and takes his hand. “You didn’t mean to.”

“I know. But that’s what I’m saying about intentions. They don’t always matter. The fact that it was an accident sure as hell didn’t matter to those six survivors.”

“I suppose not.” Magnus sighs. “What happened?”

“We ran. They chased us across most of Spain, until I figured out how to use magic well enough to do a glamour and disguise us. We sailed over to Italy, where I met another warlock for the first time, and he taught me how to use my magic.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Magnus squeezes his hand. “But thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Magnus stands up and moves over so he’s sitting next to Alec on the sofa. He looks down into his empty glass. “I think . . . I was hoping I would find her, and she would have some amazing reason and I would instantly forgive her. It would be like the last fifteen years didn’t happen. All the doubt and confusion and loneliness . . . would just evaporate. But it was never going to be like that, was it?”

“No,” Alec says quietly.

“I fought so hard to be a great Shadowhunter, but I never fit in. I’ve never fit in anywhere. They sent me all over the world but it never mattered. I thought – when I found my family, I would finally have that missing piece, I would finally _belong_ somewhere. But I don’t. I’m never going to have a place like that.”

“No, you, you do,” Alec says earnestly. “You did find a place you belong. It’s here. With us, with me. That’s – that’s what we do, you know. Warlocks. We have to make our own families, and take care of each other. It doesn’t matter who you were when you were born, or why your mother gave you up. You will _always_ have a place here.”

Magnus looks a little startled, and then he smiles, although his jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to betray too much emotion. “Thank you, Alexander.”

Without stopping to think, Alec leans in and presses his lips against Magnus’. It’s a brief, chaste kiss, and when he pulls away, Magnus follows, pursuing his mouth. That’s all it takes to break down Alec’s last wall. He leans in again and kisses Magnus with everything he has, his hands cradling Magnus’ face. Magnus reaches up and twines his hands in Alec’s hair, and moves into the kiss with unrestrained passion. He practically crawls into Alec’s lap, and Alec moves his arms down around Magnus’ waist to better support him in this. The next thing he knows, he’s lying on his back, propped up on the armrest, with Magnus on top of him. Magnus is unbuttoning his shirt and Alec barely cares because he just can’t stop kissing him, although when Magnus runs his hands over the bare skin, he has to pull away to catch his breath. “Oh my God.”

Magnus laughs quietly and leans in and nibble at his ear. Alec’s hand slides down, over the small of his back, but he stops himself before he goes for broke and grabs Magnus’ ass, no matter how much he wants to. Magnus seems to sense his reluctance, and pulls back a little. “Everything okay?”

“Can we just . . .” Alec lets out a breath and tries to keep his composure. “Everyone I’ve ever loved . . . I fall hard and fast. I can’t help it. It’s just something about how I’m wired. And I know I’m not supposed to talk about my exes, Izzy has drilled that into me since day one, but I just . . . I’m afraid that if we move too fast, I’ll lose you.”

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Magnus says, and kisses him again, but it’s soft and gentle. “But we can take things as slow as you need to.”

Alec rests his forehead against Magnus’, trying not to clutch at him. “Thank you.”

“Does that mean I have to get off you?” Magnus asks, his eyes sparkling.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Alec says, and pulls him in for another kiss.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec wakes up with a start the next morning, feeling the warm body in bed with him and momentarily confused. It’s not like it’s the first time, but it has been a _long_ time. He fumbles around, pushing his hair out of his face, and then focuses on Magnus. The events of the previous day flood back into his memory, and he finds himself smiling. It’s stupid, he knows that. It’s probably going to end in tragedy and tears – it always does. But for this one moment, watching Magnus sleep peacefully next to him, maybe it’s worth it.

Magnus stirs when Alec sits up, and a slight smile touches his face, too. “Morning,” he says, yawning and then stretching. Alec has to look away from that, because it’s too gorgeous to be true, and his self-control might not be able to handle it.

“Good morning,” he says, picking up his phone. They had gone to bed around two AM, after watching a movie and some quality cuddling on the sofa. It’s about ten thirty now, which is actually on the early side for him, though probably not for Magnus. “Text from Izzy,” he tells Magnus. “She decided to stay the night in Los Angeles. She sent Raphael back to the Institute, though, so we can meet him there.”

“All right.” Magnus sits up, and Alec takes a moment to really enjoy the sight of him, with his bed hair and face free of makeup. “Mind if I use your shower?”

Alec gestures towards one of the cabinets and sends a towel flying their way. He hands it to Magnus and says, “Feel free. I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“Okay.” Magnus leans in for a kiss, and Alec returns it, although he keeps his mouth shut because even warlocks get morning breath. Then they get out of bed. Magnus heads into the shower, and Alec quickly dresses and brushes his hair and his teeth before heading out to the kitchen.

About fifteen minutes later, Magnus reappears, somehow looking as stylish as ever despite the fact that he’s wearing the same clothes as the day before and doesn’t have any makeup on. He texts Raphael to let him know that they’re going to be back at the Institute shortly. They eat quickly and then head over. Magnus reaches out as they head inside and twines his fingers through Alec’s. Alec gives him a look. “Are you sure you want to . . .”

“They all know we’ve been dating for months,” Magnus says. “I don’t think holding hands will give anyone the vapors. And . . . I’d rather know you’re there, right now.”

Alec nods and squeezes his hand.

“Plus I didn’t come home last night, so they’re probably all making wild assumptions about what happened,” Magnus adds with a wink, and Alec flushes despite himself. Then they’re in the briefing room and there’s no more time to talk about it. Raphael greets them with his normal lack of concern for their affairs, and then Magnus says, “Alec, Ragnor Fell, Head of the New York Institute. Ragnor, this is Alexander Lightwood, High Warlock of Brooklyn . . . and my boyfriend,” he adds, with a smirk.

Ragnor shakes his head a little at Magnus’ antics, then shakes Alec’s hand and says, “Good to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Alec says, which makes Raphael roll his eyes a little.

“So what did you find out?” Magnus asks Raphael.

“I’ll let him start,” Raphael says, gesturing at Ragnor. “He was around for all of that.”

Ragnor sighs a little, but sits down and gestures for the others to do the same. “You know the basics of the Uprising. I actually . . . I knew Mei, before she married Asmodeus and got caught up in all that. It’s a little difficult to describe the . . . the way Asmodeus had with people. He wasn’t just powerful and talented. He was charming, almost humble, effusive in his praise of others. He had a way of drawing people in. Nobody really realized it was happening, and even though I knew several of the people involved, I can’t tell you how it went from a close-knit circle of friends to the cult that he convinced to declare genocide on the Downworlders. Maybe someone who was actually inside could tell you, but I can’t.”

“Do you think my mother actually loved him?” Magnus asks.

“Oh, undoubtedly. They were sweethearts back at the Institute, before everything went . . . bad. But when the Uprising collapsed in on itself, there was a fire, and her body – or at least what we all thought was her body – was found inside.” Ragnor lets out a breath. “I think this Luke that you’ve seen in your visions must have been Lucian Gray. I didn’t make the connection because he never went by Luke, in all the years I’ve known him. He was one of Asmodeus’ right-hand men. He and your mother were close. He was actually declared dead a few weeks before the fire. Werewolf attack. But if he survived, he could have gotten your mother out.”

Ragnor falls silent, so at this point Raphael speaks up. “Apparently, Clary and your mom were also friends back in the day. They met on a case or two, when Mei was stationed at the Los Angeles Institute. Clary said they fell out of touch when Asmodeus started doing his thing, and like everyone else, she thought Mei had died in the fire. But then Mei turned up with you, when you were ten. Said that Asmodeus was using the fact that you were his son – blood magic – to track you. She’d managed to keep you hidden for ten years but he kept getting closer, and eventually he was going to find you.”

Magnus opens his mouth, then closes it and says nothing. It’s Alec who speaks, saying, “I find it hard to believe that a warlock would have helped Asmodeus – or that he would have used one.”

“Clary mentioned that too, actually. But she said even though he wouldn’t have _worked_ with one, she wouldn’t have put it past him to keep one captive and occasionally force them to do magic.” Raphael shrugs. “Hypocrisy comes in a lot of colors.”

“I can see it,” Ragnor says. “Part of the reason Asmodeus hated the Downworlders so much was because he envied the talents that they possessed. It wouldn’t be unlike him to have forced one to do the magic he couldn’t.”

“Anyway,” Raphael says, waving this aside, “Clary did a bunch of magic on you. Part of it was to shield you from whatever poor bastard Asmodeus was using to track you. And the rest was to obscure your memories. Then she sent you both through a portal to New York City. Mei left you on the doorstep and the rest was history.”

Magnus chews on his lower lip. “But we don’t know why she never came back.”

“No. Which brings me to _my_ question.” Raphael looks at Ragnor. “Did the Clave know Asmodeus survived?”

Ragnor’s mouth thins like he bit down on a lemon. “They’ve long suspected.”

“But they haven’t done anything about it.”

Ragnor shrugs. “He’s been quiet. They have other problems. But to respond to what you’re actually saying, Raphael, no, they probably don’t particularly care. If Asmodeus starts killing Downworlders again, that’s the Downworld’s problem, in the Clave’s opinion.”

Raphael says nothing. Magnus glances at Alec, who doesn’t look in the least surprised, and then sighs. “I don’t suppose they have any idea where he is.”

“If they do, they certainly won’t tell me,” Ragnor says.

“What about the blood magic?” Magnus looks at Alec. “He was using that to find me. Could we use it to find him?”

Alec is frowning faintly. “In theory, yes. I’d have to remove whatever block Clary put on you, though, and that would mean that he would be able to find you afterwards. Which, okay, it’s been fifteen years. Maybe he wouldn’t care anymore. But I don’t know if it would be the best idea. I don’t know if . . . if you finding him would be the best idea, is what I mean.”

Magnus lets out a breath. “You’re right about that. I don’t know what I could possibly say to him, and if the Clave has no intention of bringing him to justice . . . Ragnor, what do you think?”

“I think I’ll sleep a lot easier at night if that blocking is still on you,” Ragnor says. “Asmodeus is powerful, Magnus. I know what you’re thinking, and how strong the impulse to confront him must be. But I don’t know that you could defeat him, and I’d hate for you to risk it.”

“What about your mother, though?” Raphael asks. “The same blood magic should help you find her, right? Would that connection be blocked, the same way your connection to Asmodeus’ is?”

Magnus looks at Alec, who would better understand the spell Clary had done. He frowns and says, “Maybe, maybe not. Clary could have done the spell either way – to block Asmodeus’ connection specifically, or to block all blood magic tracking. If I were her, I would have done the latter. That way, if Asmodeus ever captured Mei, he wouldn’t be able to use her to find Magnus. Worth asking, though. I’ll text Izzy, since she’s still in Los Angeles.”

“Thank you, darling,” Magnus says, and Alec flushes pink and gives him a sideways smile. Raphael sees this and rolls his eyes so hard that he probably sees the back of his skull. “Either way, I’d like to find her. I . . . I don’t know why she never came back, after telling Clary she would.”

“I can see why your mother wouldn’t have wanted to contact you until you were a full Shadowhunter and had a permanent post,” Ragnor says, frowning slightly, “but I have to admit that it’s odd she never came back after that.”

“There are a lot of possible reasons why, so let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Alec says. He glances at his phone and says, “Clary says she blocked all blood magic on you. Amazing, she did something intelligent.”

Magnus chokes on a laugh. “Alexander. The magic she did on me seems to have been quite intricate and powerful. Perhaps you should give her some credit?”

Alec scowls at him and doesn’t reply.

“So what now?” Raphael asks.

Ragnor reaches out and squeezes Magnus’ shoulder. “Taking that block off you would be risky. There might be another way to find your mother, without leaving you vulnerable to Asmodeus. We know her name now, her appearance, the place she was last seen. Let’s pursue other avenues first.”

Magnus lets out a breath, and nods. “You’re right. At least for now, we’ll keep looking for her the old-fashioned way.” He turns to Alec and says, “In the meantime, I’d love to get away from all of this for a few hours. Didn’t you say something about taking me to Tokyo?”

“It’s four AM in Tokyo right now,” Alec says, and Magnus makes a face at him. “How about Buenos Aires?”

“Oh, yes. An excellent choice, I’m sure,” Magnus says, beaming, and Raphael just rolls his eyes again.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

They don’t talk about it for a few days. Magnus spends a lot of time at Alec’s loft, and they travel to Tokyo and Okinawa and generally enjoy themselves. He knows that at some point, he’s going to have to deal with everything that’s happened, but for a few days, he gives himself a break. He doesn’t even want to think about being related to Asmodeus, so he puts it out of his mind as much as possible. There will be time to figure out what to do next. He and Alec are in the bubble right now, that glorious early relationship stage where all they want to do is hold hands and kiss and take a ridiculous number of selfies. Or at least, he’s taking ridiculous numbers of them. Alec puts up with it with a somewhat long-suffering expression, but Magnus suspects he’s secretly enjoying it.

He’s brought back to earth somewhat abruptly the next week when he arrives back at the Institute after a night at Alec’s apartment to find Raphael waiting for him in the front hall. “Uh oh,” he says lightly, then sees the look on Raphael’s face and realizes that there’s a real problem. “What is it?”

“Magnus!” a cheerful, feminine voice says, and Magnus looks up to see Camille Belcourt come into the hallway. “It’s been so long! Come here and give me a kiss, darling.”

Magnus manages to keep a straight face and not betray his emotions. “I’d rather not,” he says. “What are you doing here, Camille?”

“She’s an envoy from the Clave,” Raphael says.

Camille gives Magnus a wicked smile. “I’ll be taking over this Institute, Magnus.” She extends a hand and adds, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	7. Chapter 7

 

Magnus finds Ragnor in his study, packing up some of his books. His stomach clenches down on the guilt and the worry. “Ragnor, I’m – ”

“Close the door behind you,” Ragnor says, and Magnus winces but does so. Once it’s shut, Ragnor turns to face him with a sigh. He takes both of Magnus’ upper arms in his hands and says, “Magnus. This is not your fault.”

“I’m very sure that’s not true,” Magnus says. “I just haven’t yet figured out if it’s because I’m dating a warlock, or if it’s because I’m Asmodeus’ son.”

“Given the timing, probably the latter,” Ragnor says, “although the former didn’t help. Which is why I said it’s not your fault. Come on, sit down. We need to talk.”

Somewhat apprehensively, Magnus seats himself. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, well. I have a confession to make, and you’re not going to like it.” Ragnor sits down as well. “The truth is, I’ve always known you were Mei and Asmodeus’ child.”

Magnus blinks at him in astonishment. “You what? How? What?”

Ragnor smiles a little despite himself. “You have your mother’s eyes, Magnus.” He sits in silence for a brief moment. “I went to the Academy with her. We were close, up until Asmodeus started to turn bad. It made sense that she would have left you with me.” Another moment of silence. “I’m sorry I never told you. When you were younger, I had to keep it a secret. The Clave was reluctant enough to give you formal training – they’ve always suspected you were the child of _some_ Circle member who went on the run; they just didn’t know whose. If they had known, they would have de-runed you, exiled you, thrown you to the in-some-cases-literal wolves.”

“But you could have told _me_ ,” Magnus says.

“You were a child, Magnus. You wouldn’t have understood the stakes, you might have mentioned it to someone else, some aristocrat’s child you thought was your friend. It was safer for you if you didn’t know.” Ragnor sighs. “I always figured Mei would turn up once your education was over, but she didn’t, and I didn’t know why.”

“But you never told me,” Magnus says. “Even after my memories started coming back.”

“I’m sorry, Magnus. I thought it was better for you if you didn’t know. I know that learning you were Asmodeus’ son has hurt you in ways I can’t understand. I thought it would be easier if you just – never found out. I knew Mei would have used a powerful, talented warlock to seal those memories. It never occurred to me that Lightwood would actually be able to uncover enough of them for you to find out the truth.”

Magnus pushes a hand through his hair. “Okay. I understand. I can’t say I like it, but I understand. But Camille – ”

“The point I’m making,” Ragnor says, lifting a hand, “is that I always knew I would lose this Institute one day, because of the way I protected you. Mei or Asmodeus would resurface, someone in the Clave would put the pieces together. I knew that from the day I took you in, from the day I advocated for your education before the Clave. I made that choice and I have no regrets.”

Magnus feels his throat tighten and tears sting at his eyes. “I’m an idiot,” he says.

Ragnor laughs. “Hardly.”

“No, I just – ” Magnus has to swallow hard. “I’ve been over the whole world looking for my parents, not realizing that what I was looking for was always right here.”

“Don’t get sappy on me,” Ragnor says, but he’s smiling. “You’re a good kid, Magnus. Asmodeus being your father – it doesn’t matter. Not even a little. Okay?”

Magnus manages a nod. “What should I do now?”

“About Asmodeus, or about Camille?” Ragnor asks, then waves this aside. “They’re too connected to tackle separately. I think if you’re able, not looking for Asmodeus will help you with the Clave. He might be your father, but you’re not connected to him in any way other than blood. You don’t need to find him; you don’t want to see him. Your mother – that’s a trickier story. But the good news is that being removed from this Institute means that I’ll have time to look for her myself. So let me try, Magnus. I know the sort of places she went, how she might hide. I might be able to find her. And if the Clave thinks you don’t care, that will benefit you.”

“Okay.” Magnus lets out a breath. “And Camille?”

“There’s history there, I remember. Care to refresh my memory?”

“We dated, when I was at the Academy in Paris. She was clingy and possessive and I tried to break it off with her twice before the third time was the charm. She tried to sabotage my graduation tourney in response.”

“Sounds like a Belcourt.” Ragnor shakes his head. “Be professional, be civil, and don’t give her an inch more than that. You have to let her do her job, but there’s nothing beyond that, that you’re obligated to do.”

“That won’t help me with the Clave.”

“True. But nobody is thrilled when an envoy gets sent to audit them. It’ll hardly be the first time an Institute tries to stonewall one. Camille will go through all your cases with a magnifying glass. She’ll insist on you getting clearance for every step of every investigation you take on while she’s here. She’ll be an enormous pain in your ass, and then, if your case history is exemplary and everything goes perfectly, she’ll turn in a report saying that you’re a failure.”

Magnus looks at the ceiling. “Great pep talk, Ragnor.”

“Sorry. I’m trying to be realistic. With a vindictive envoy that you have personal history with, the best you can hope for is that she’ll turn in a lousy report and the Clave will disregard it. More likely, they’ll move you and Raphael somewhere else, somewhere like Caracas or Cape Town, which have been in desperate need of an overhaul. You’ll do what you do best – kick ass, take names, and whip that place into shape. And eventually the Clave will get the idea that you’re not going to let them walk all over you.” Ragnor stands up and starts packing again. “Is it worth talking to you about Lightwood?”

“If your advice is going to be to break up with him, no.”

Ragnor shakes his head a little. “This thing you have with him. Serious?”

Magnus glances over, trying to gauge Ragnor’s interest. “Yes, it is.”

Ragnor puts a stack of books into a box. “Does he make you happy?”

“He does.”

“Okay. Good.” Ragnor looks over with a slight smile. “I’m glad you found somebody. I’d say ‘don’t let the Clave give you any shit’, but a) I know you won’t, and b) I know they will.” He shrugs. “They’ll be assholes about it your entire life, even if you and Lightwood break up for totally unrelated reasons next week. You’ll be excluded from social events. Other people will get the credit for your achievements. They’ll hold their noses when you show up in their presence, give you the jobs that nobody wants. But you know all that already. You’re an adult who can make your own choices. So it’s up to you, whether or not you want to put up with that.”

“The only thing is . . .” Magnus looks away. “Raphael will suffer for it, too. It isn’t fair to him.”

Ragnor shrugs. “If you think Raphael agreed to be your parabatai because he was looking _not_ to ruffle the Clave’s feathers, I have some news for you.”

That makes Magnus smile. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Now get outta here. I have a lot more to do; they want me back in Idris by nightfall. I’m sure Camille is picking through the Archives by now, and she probably has a hundred questions for you, each more insulting than the last.”

“All right.” Magnus embraces Ragnor tightly. “Thank you for your excellent counsel, as always.”

Ragnor nods and pats him on the back, and Magnus turns and leaves the room. He has no intention of talking to Camille right now. His talk with Ragnor has left him in better spirits, but he’s still too angry with the Clave to risk it. If he takes Ragnor’s advice and accepts Camille’s failing grade as a foregone conclusion, he doesn’t have to make nice to her. Then again, there’s failing and being moved to a third-rate Institute, and then there’s _failing_. If Camille makes it look like he’s actually in league with Downworlders, they’ll do worse.

He finds Raphael working on a punching bag, and shrugs out of his jacket. “Let’s spar.”

“Good plan,” Raphael says, picking up a staff for each of them and tossing one to Magnus.

They spend some quality time beating the shit out of each other, and Magnus feels like he might actually be calming down some by the end of it. Then he hears clapping, and looks over to see Camille, and his mood is immediately terrible again.

“You two look delicious,” Camille says, smiling at him. “I’m going to enjoy this assignment.”

Magnus puts the staff back where it goes and says, “Did you need something, Camille?”

“I’d like to go through your open cases with you.” Camille clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Four open cases at once? Seems like a lot. Paris only had two when I left, and when I worked in Copenhagen there was never more than one at once.”

“New York City is literally four times as large as Paris, and probably ten times bigger than Copenhagen, in terms of population,” Magnus says. “So if you’re going to look at it in terms of ratio, I could have eight open cases and still be doing just as well as Paris.”

Camille looks annoyed, but then quickly schools her expression back into that sweet smile. “I just thought maybe you had been distracted lately by your boyfriend.”

“No,” Magnus says, staying neutral. “Not at all. Shall we?”

Camille’s mouth purses, but she nods and says, “Let’s get started.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec is just starting to wonder what he should make for dinner when his phone chimes. He sees a text from Magnus and frowns slightly as he opens it. ‘Busy with work tonight,’ it reads, and Alec pouts despite himself. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’

‘Okay,’ Alec texts back. He doesn’t think much of it until the next day. He’s been thinking of taking Magnus to Barcelona. It’s _like_ Seville, but it’s _not_ Seville, and he thinks that maybe it might help desensitize him. It’s the sort of city that Magnus would love, with its open markets and beautiful beaches. But Magnus had said he would call, so he waits. Of course, the time zones make things difficult. If they want to have any appreciable amount of time in Spain, even in the evening, they have to leave fairly early.

But they can always go to Spain some other day. There’s plenty to do in New York. If Magnus had been up late on a case, he doesn’t want to bother him. So he waits, and waits, and then waits some more, and around six PM he finally breaks and texts him. ‘What are you up to over there?’

His phone rings a moment later, and Magnus sounds a little harried. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to call,” he says. “There’s an envoy from the Clave here, and things are a little crazy.”

“Oh,” Alec says, wondering what an envoy does. “Okay, no worries. Is it about your parents?”

“Ah, not directly. I think the Clave just wants to make sure that now that I’ve found out, I don’t plan on doing anything rash. But she wants to go through our case history and everything – it’s an enormous pain in the ass, but it’s all SOP. I’ll just be busy for the next few days while she’s doing her job, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” Alec says. “Well, call me when you’ve wrapped it up. We can go somewhere special.”

“I will, darling.” Magnus says goodbye and hangs up. Alec sighs a little and goes to find himself a book.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

By the time three days have gone by, Magnus is just about ready to murder Camille and call it done. It’s not that she’s going through their cases with a fine-tooth comb, or even that she actively disparages every decision they’ve made. That, he was prepared for. It was the constant references to other Shadowhunters and how they would have done better, other cities with better statistics. It’s particularly annoying because he knows it’s not true. He knows that what he and Raphael have done with New York City is nothing short of miraculous.

And that’s nothing compared to what they’re trying to do with their current cases. All of them are simple, and he doesn’t need a baby-sitter telling him how to do his job. When they’re on the job, Camille is full of praise, watching them fight and whistling and even catcalling them. It’s only afterwards where it comes down to, “That was stunning, _but_ . . .” and then she’s full of ways that it could have gone better.

He’s taking out his aggression on a hapless punching bag when Camille finds him. “Don’t stop on my account,” she says, as he reaches out to pull his shirt on. “How about we have a talk?”

“If you insist,” Magnus says, keeping his voice neutral.

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” Magnus says.

They head for the kitchen. Camille pours them both a mug, adds a sickening amount of cream and sugar to hers, and then gives him a look over the rim of the mug as she sips. “So, darling. Shall we be honest with each other?”

“Are you capable?” Magnus asks.

Camille tsks at him. “I know what you’re thinking, you know. That no matter what you do, I’m going to turn in a lousy report, so why bother making nice to me?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Magnus says.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way, Magnus. You’ve done a fantastic job with this Institute. Everyone knows that.”

Magnus gives her a suspicious look. “Should I be recording this conversation?”

Camille laughs at him. “How would you like to run it yourself?”

Magnus is somewhat taken aback, and replies, “That sounds fantastic and not at all likely.”

“You’d have to make some concessions,” Camille agrees. “But just think about it for a moment. I know that this is what you’ve _always_ wanted. Your own Institute. The respect of the Clave. The freedom to do what you want.”

“What’s the catch?” Magnus asks.

“I’m sick of being an envoy,” Camille says. “It’s the worst job, honestly. Going from Institute to Institute, making everybody hate me when I report on all their failures. I want something better. The Clave respects me, but more importantly, they respect the Belcourt name. I can make this happen for you – for _us_.”

“You’re talking about running the Institute together,” Magnus says.

“Mm hm,” Camille says, smiling at him. “Of course, you’d have to stop running around with warlock trash and settle down with me. But I’m hardly a terrible second choice, am I?”

“Terrible is the nicest thing I would say about you,” Magnus says, and shakes his head. “The answer is no.”

The smile disappears off Camille’s face. “You’re not thinking this through, Magnus. You think the worst thing they can do to you is Caracas? You think you’ll still be a senior field agent when I’m through with you? You could do to Caracas exactly what you did here. No, they’ll send you to Paris or Prague, somewhere they can keep an eye on you, micromanage you, censure you for every least thing. Or they’ll bring you back to Idris and save you for the most dangerous missions, try their damnedest to get you killed because better you than someone from the aristocracy. Or how about they send you to Jakarta, the last place Asmodeus was seen, and see if they can use you as bait for him? There are worlds of options worse than Caracas, Magnus – and far worse than me.”

Magnus has to speak through gritted teeth. “I would rather mop floors in Siberia for the rest of my life than spend one night with you, Camille. The answer is no.”

“What about Raphael?” Camille asks. “Are you volunteering him for a life of mopping floors because you’d rather fuck a warlock than play nice with me?”

“Let’s get one thing straight right here and now,” Magnus says. “The fact that I am currently dating a warlock has _nothing_ to do with why I don’t want to be with you. Do you think I don’t remember the hell you put me through when we were dating? The way you read my texts and constantly accused me of cheating on you? The way you laughed at my opinions, my dreams, hell, even my wardrobe? The way you tried to make me think I was crazy by insisting I had agreed on things that you hadn’t even mentioned to me? Or told all my friends I had slapped you, because I dared be out ten minutes later than I had told you I was going to be? The way you turned them all against me and had me shunned by everyone in Paris I knew? Oh, no, Camille. I haven’t forgotten. There is nothing you can say or do that would make me want to be with you again.”

Camille folds her arms over her chest. “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a fact. Take it how you want.”

Camille shakes her head at him in mock disappointment. “You’ve forgotten something, Magnus. I _always_ get what I want.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. “Always.”

She turns and walks away, leaving Magnus alone in the kitchen, waiting for his hands to stop shaking.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec ends up not worrying about Magnus for a few days, because Jace has an episode, and it takes up all his attention as usual. He texts Magnus to let him know he won’t be available, and Magnus just replies that’s fine because he’s still dealing with the envoy – although then he adds that he misses Alec, and sends him a shirtless picture. Alec, who has no idea of sexting protocol, just says that he misses Magnus too.

It’s only over breakfast after Jace’s episode is over, three days later, that he mentions it to Izzy. She sighs and says, “Yeah, this whole thing with Camille seems like such a mess.”

“Camille?” Alec asks, spreading cream cheese on his bagel.

“The envoy,” Izzy says.

“Oh, that. Magnus said it wasn’t really a big deal.”

Izzy stares at him. “Magnus said that?”

“Yeah.” Alec frowns and looks up. “Why?”

“It’s just . . .” Izzy clears her throat. “You know, I’ve been texting back and forth with Raphael since that trip to Los Angeles, and he seems to think it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Why?” Alec is still frowning. “Magnus says that they just go over the case history and make sure that he’s not about to start committing genocide like his father did, and then she’ll get out of his hair.”

Izzy and Jace exchange a look, and then Izzy says, “I don’t want to come between you and Magnus. I especially don’t want to call Magnus a liar. But I think he might have . . . understated the case a little, to try to keep you from worrying.”

Alec abruptly shoves back from the table and goes out onto the balcony. He takes his phone out of his pocket and dials Magnus. It’s a little after eleven, so still pretty early for them, although not so much that he worries he’s going to wake Magnus. He picks up sounding the same as ever, and says, “Hello, darling. I’ve missed you.”

Derailed from his questions, Alec stammers, “I, uh, I missed you too. Miss you. Currently. I am currently missing you.”

“I actually was going to call you to ask if you wanted to do lunch today,” Magnus says. “Just somewhere local. I’m still not long on time.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure, that sounds good.” Alec clears his throat. “Have you been to Freemans? It’s in the Bowery.”

“I’ll find it. Twelve thirty?”

“Okay.” Alec says goodbye, hangs up, and goes inside.

“Everything okay?” Izzy asks, clearly worried that she might have thrown a wrench in their relationship.

“We’re going to meet for lunch,” Alec says.

Izzy’s eyes light up. “Ooh! I’ll help you pick an outfit.”

Alec sighs, because he knows he can’t talk her out of it. He allows her to dress him in a dark blue shirt and jeans, then fuss over _exactly_ how far up his sleeves should be rolled, and how many buttons on the shirt he should do. She takes so long fussing that he nearly doesn’t make it in time. Magnus beats him there, and Alec wonders how long he’s been waiting. He forgets about his concern and annoyance when he sees him, looking as fabulous as ever, in a red silk shirt and black pants, and leans in for a kiss. “Hey. How are you?”

“I’ve had better weeks, that’s for sure,” Magnus says. They head inside and get a table.

Once their food is ordered and Alec is sipping an iced tea, he says, “So when were you planning to tell me what’s going on with this envoy?”

Magnus sighs. “Today, tomorrow – next week. I’ve been putting it off, which I know hasn’t been fair of me.”

“Izzy says that Raphael seems pretty worried. Which seems weird, since Raphael doesn’t seem the sort to worry, and you said something about this all being SOP.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .” Magnus grimaces a little. “I didn’t mean to mislead you. I just had this strange hope that it would all blow over, and I didn’t want you blaming yourself for this, because trust me, it is not your fault.”

Alec studies him for a moment before he says, “Magnus. What is going on?”

“The Clave sends in an envoy to audit an Institute. It _is_ SOP, that’s not a lie, but it’s unusual for an envoy to be sent when one is doing well, which ours is. She’s replaced Ragnor as the current Head of the Institute, although it’s usually a temporary position. Depending on her review, he might be back, or he might be replaced, either by someone currently here, or somebody chosen from another Institute or even Idris.”

“Is this because they figured out you’re Asmodeus’ son?”

“Ragnor thinks so. But that’s not really where the problem lies. The problem is Camille.” Magnus smiles slightly and says, “I guess we both avoided talking about our exes.”

“Ah,” Alec says. “Bad breakup?”

“One of the worst. We were nineteen. It was my last year at the Academy. Camille is controlling, petty, vindictive, and manipulative – a constellation of traits that make her a nightmare to deal with.”

“I can see that,” Alec says. “You think she’s going to screw you over?”

“Oh, I know she’s going to screw me over. The only question is how she’s going to do it.” Magnus slowly stirs his coffee, looking into it pensively. “The _best case_ scenario is that Raphael and I will be transferred to an Institute that’s understaffed and overburdened, and asked to take over as field agents there.”

“That’s the best case?” Alec asks “Yikes.”

“Yes. Other possibilities? We’ll be demoted, reassigned somewhere to run errands and do research. It would be a waste of our talents, but the Clave’s pride often overwhelms their good sense. Or they’ll transfer us somewhere close to Idris where they can micromanage us. Camille also mentioned sending us to Jakarta – apparently that’s the last place Asmodeus was seen, and they’re thinking they might use me as bait.”

“I thought Ragnor said they didn’t care about catching Asmodeus.”

“Enough to look for him, no. Enough to hang a problematic Shadowhunter out to dry to see if he turns up? Well . . .”

Alec takes a deep breath. “Okay. But there’s more, isn’t there?”

Magnus sighs. “Camille has offered me the position of Head of the New York Institute . . . if I fall into line and, long story short, marry her.”

“Wow, that’s . . . wow.”

“Yes. And she didn’t take it well when I told her I’d rather stick it in a beehive.”

Alec lets out an abrupt laugh despite himself. “No, I’ve heard that women don’t like being told that.”

“The thing is . . . that’s what Camille obviously wants. She _can_ do all those other terrible things to me. She could easily see it arranged. The Belcourts are basically royalty, high in the Clave’s aristocracy. But she doesn’t want to send me to Jakarta. She wants me to belong to her again, and Camille . . . is very good at getting what she wants.” Magnus sets down his mug. “And I hadn’t mentioned any of this to you because I just don’t know what to do.”

“Can you go over her head?” Alec asks.

“I could try, but I’d just end up looking like I was trying to circumvent the audit. Very few people understand Camille’s true nature. Most people think she’s charming and sweet. When we were dating, she was easily able to turn my friends against me by telling them how horribly I treated her . . . and that would just happen again here.” Magnus sighs. “And ninety-nine percent of the Clave would think I was insane to turn down her offer. Running my own Institute, marrying into the Clave aristocracy – it’s like a fairy tale come true.”

“And I guess nobody would believe you’d rather date a warlock,” Alec says.

“No, and I can’t even say that I’m only interested in men, because I dated her in the past.” Magnus shakes his head. “It’s a mess, and to be honest I have no idea what I should do.”

Alec nods a little, mulling all this over. “I think what you should do . . . is eat lunch. And then come back to my loft with me. We’ll watch some classic Star Trek, make out on the sofa, and then I’ll make you paella. It won’t solve a damned thing, but I bet it’ll make you feel a lot better.”

Magnus is laughing quietly. “It will, definitely. Thank you, Alexander.”

“You’re welcome.” Alec glances up as the waiter comes over with their food. “Now let’s eat.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	8. Chapter 8

 

Magnus lingers after dinner, because the last thing he wants to do is go back to the Institute and face Camille. She’ll undoubtedly have a lot of questions about where he’s been and why he isn’t there attending to her every whim. It’s just past eight when he gets a text from Raphael. ‘Mission time.’

With a sigh, Magnus says, “Duty calls.”

Alec leans over and gives him a kiss. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.”

Magnus returns the kiss with interest before he manages to tear himself away and head back to the Institute. Fortunately, it’s a boring, standard mission. A demon has been sighted in the Bronx. They head out and kill it without a fuss. Camille critiques their performance, and Magnus decides to go to bed early.

He’s still taking off his makeup when there’s a knock on his door. “Who is it?” he calls out.

Instead of a response, the door opens. It’s Raphael. He comes in without saying anything, and shuts the door behind him. “Lightwood have anything useful to say?”

“Not really,” Magnus says with a sigh. “He cheered me up a bit, but that doesn’t really help you.” He watches as Raphael swings a chair around so he can sit in it backwards, and finishes cleaning his eyes off. “God, I’m so sorry about all of this.”

Raphael shrugs. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know that certain parts of it aren’t, but you – you’re going to wind up getting screwed because the Clave has a problem with me.”

“True,” Raphael says, “but you can’t say I didn’t walk into it with my eyes open. I knew there was a possibility this sort of shit would happen when I chose to be your parabatai.”

“You didn’t know about Asmodeus.”

“Neither did you.” Raphael just gives another shrug. “This isn’t about Asmodeus. And it’s not about Lightwood, either. Think about it. Those two things are pretty mutually exclusive to worry about, aren’t they? Either you’re too friendly with the Downworlders or you’re going to start murdering them out of hand? Nah, this has nothing to do with any of that. It’s just that they’ve finally found an excuse to target us. They’ve been pissed for years, you know, because we’re too good. We make their dear little sons and daughters look bad, and they’ve been itching for an excuse to take us down a few pegs. And that, my friend, I knew when we partnered up. But I wanted to be the best, even if, especially if, it pissed off the snobs. I don’t regret it, you know.”

“Thanks,” Magnus says, managing a smile. “I suppose you’re probably right. Not that I know what to do about it.”

“We’ve got allies, you know. We’re not alone in this. There are people in the Clave, even in the aristocracy, that value talent and strength over birthright. I’ve been talking to Catarina Loss, Dorothea Rollins, a few other people. They said to keep our heads down, behave ourselves, and just document the shit out of everything Camille does. We can’t talk our way out of the audit, but we might be able to convince them to send a different envoy. I mean, having a personal relationship with one of the field agents you’re investigating is pretty frowned upon.”

Magnus nods, thinking things over. “I should tell you – she offered to give me the Institute if I’d marry her.”

Raphael grimaces. “ _Dios_ , no. Tell me you’re not even thinking about accepting that offer.”

“Not for a moment,” Magnus says, feeling some of the weight lift off his chest. “But that’s somewhat inappropriate, isn’t it? For an envoy to try to make a deal like that.”

“Yeah, absolutely. See if you can get her on tape saying that. Some of the Clave doesn’t know shit about mundane surveillance, but they’re not all technophobes. That’d help make our case a lot. I’ll tell Catarina, see what she thinks.”

“Okay.” Magnus lets out a breath. “Thank you, Raphael. I feel better about everything.”

Raphael nods and stands up. “Night,” he says, before leaving the room.

Magnus yawns and heads for the shower, then changes his mind and takes a hot bath instead. He goes to bed feeling much more relaxed, like this is something they should be able to handle, and falls asleep right away.

When he wakes up, there’s a warm body in bed with him, and he doesn’t think much of it for the first few moments. He’s been staying at Alec’s loft a lot, and he’s always had his share of flings, so waking up with someone beside him isn’t at all unusual. Then he hears the fake camera noise of a phone taking a photograph, and opens his eyes.

“Holy hell,” he says, seeing Camille next to him. She smiles at him as he scrambles to get out of bed, remembers that he’s naked, and grabs a pillow. “What are you doing in here?”

“What does it look like?” Camille asks, laughing. She holds up the phone and Magnus sees that it’s his own, not hers. “I used your thumb to unlock it. Hope you don’t mind. You’re still a pretty sound sleeper, you know that? It’s adorable.”

“What are you doing?” Magnus repeats, through gritted teeth.

“You were always so cute first thing in the morning, before you made yourself up for the day.” Camille stands up, letting the sheets drop to the floor to show her own nudity. “Look at this selfie. It’s adorable, isn’t it?”

Magnus looks at the picture on his phone, the way Camille has cuddled up to him and pulled the sheets back so it’s obvious in the picture that they’re both naked. “And what do you intend to do with that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Camille says, tapping the screen. “I think I’ll send it to your boyfriend,” she adds, laughing.

“Camille, damn it – ” Magnus grabs for the phone, but it’s too late. She’s already sent it.

“Let’s add ‘oops, wrong person’ for some authenticity,” Camille continues. Magnus turns away and starts getting dressed, since it’s clear she isn’t going to be leaving in a hurry. “Hm. No response. Do you think he’ll just stop talking to you altogether?”

“I think that I need coffee before I have to converse with you any further.” Magnus doesn’t normally leave his room in the morning before he’s made himself up for the day, but he wants to get away from Camille, or at least to a place where there are witnesses.

“Aww, spoilsport.” Camille goes over to his closet and pulls out one of his button down shirts, sliding it on. “What do you think? Do I look good in your clothes?”

“I like that shirt, damn it,” Magnus mutters to himself, thinking about now he’s going to have to burn it. He pushes past her and out of his room, heading down to the kitchen. She follows, not at all concerned about the fact that the shirt only gives her the barest amount of decency. Magnus ignores her as resolutely as possible, and is halfway to the kitchen when the door to the Institute opens and Alec comes in. He stops in his tracks, feeling his stomach twist. “Alexander.”

Alec opens his mouth, then sees Camille come into the hallway, wearing Magnus’ shirt. The glamour drops off his face and he starts forward, snapping, “Do you think I’m an idiot? That you could just text me that picture and I wouldn’t know it was you? I swear to God, if you touched him without his permission, I will – ”

“Alexander,” Magnus says hastily, getting in between the two. As heartwarming as Alec’s reaction is, he’s treading dangerously close to threatening a Shadowhunter, and it won’t end well. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“It’s damned well _not_ fine,” Alec says, but he seems to realize why Magnus is stopping him, because he stops himself and takes a deep breath. Camille is pouting, and Alec continues, “Don’t think that he didn’t tell me the sort of person you are. You’re not going to come between us, so you can stop trying right now. Am I making myself clear?”

“We’ll see,” Camille says, and flounces off.

Alec takes a deep breath, his fists clenching and unclenching, before he turns to Magnus. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you, did she – ”

“I’m fine, darling.” Magnus steps closer so he can rest his hand on Alec’s chest, a gesture meant to comfort both of them. “She didn’t do anything besides getting into bed with me and taking the picture. It’s not an experience I’m eager to repeat, but I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Alec pushes a hand back through his hair, rubbing briefly at the back of his neck. “Sorry for, you know, storming in here like that.”

“No apologies necessary. I have to admit that I was relieved at your reaction.”

Alec looks at the hallway that Camille left through, his face creasing in a scowl. “Look, I’ve known people like that before. And I know the kind of person you are. So if she does anything and, and I fall for it, just tell me. Whether it’s a nasty text or a missed date or whatever. I’m not going to say I’m some sort of super genius that will always see through her tricks, but I promise that I’ll believe you about her. Okay?”

“More than.” Magnus tilts his chin up for a kiss, and Alec obliges. “Would you like to go get some breakfast?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Yeah. Breakfast sounds good.”

There’s a café a few blocks away from the Institute that has great lattes and better muffins. They find a small table in the corner and Magnus tells Alec about what Raphael had been saying the night before. Alec agrees that although it’s not a great solution – he dislikes the part where Camille gets to do whatever she wants – it’s certainly better than what they had before.

“You know what I think I’m going to do, though,” Magnus says, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. “I’m going to go to Kiev and ask some questions about Valentine Morgenstern.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Alec says. “I mean, do you really want to piss them off more?”

“Yes,” Magnus says, and Alec laughs despite himself. “Yes, I do. I want to show them that I’m not going to change just because they have an envoy breathing down my neck. Valentine is a dangerous warlock who has directly impacted a Downworlder living in my jurisdiction. I have every right to request information on him. It’s not about you, or our relationship; I won’t even bring your name into it. But I need to show the Clave that they can’t just put their boot on my throat and expect me to meekly comply.”

Alec considers this for a minute, studying him, before he leans back in his chair. “God, that’s hot,” he says, almost a sigh.

Magnus smirks. “Well, I’m glad you appreciate it.” He glances at his watch and says, “I’ve got a few free hours before anyone at the Institute will need me, since we got an early start today. How about we go back to your place and you can . . . appreciate me some more?”

Alec flushes pink and stammers, “Yeah, uh, I, okay. Yeah. That, uh, that sounds like a plan.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

A few days pass before Magnus and Alec manages to see each other again. They text back and forth frequently, but Magnus is busy at work and trying not to rock the boat while he’s waiting to see if the Nephilim in Kiev are going to help with his request. Three days later, they send him a message saying that they have a solid lead on Valentine’s location.

“Have you been to Kiev?” Magnus asks, as he relays this to Alec. Izzy has come along, but they haven’t told Jace yet, not wanting him to get his hopes up. With the assistance of the other Shadowhunters, it shouldn’t be an issue.

“No,” Alec says, frowning. “Don’t all the Institutes have portals connecting each other?”

“Well, yes and no,” Magnus says. “They all have a portal connected to Idris, so it’s easy to go from one to another – except for the part where Downworlders aren’t allowed in Idris.”

Alec rolls his eyes so hard that he probably sprains a cornea. “Yes, God forbid that I tarnish the hallowed halls of Idris for twenty seconds while walking from the portal to New York to the portal to Kiev. Fine. I’ll portal myself to Budapest and fly from there. See you in a few hours.” He opens the portal with a wave of his hand and steps through.

“Sorry about him,” Izzy says, and Magnus waves this off, not at all insulted. Izzy goes through the portal as well.

Magnus shakes his head a little and then goes looking for Raphael. They’re just about to step through the portal when Camille saunters over. “So, I hear we’re taking a trip to the Ukraine!”

“Indeed we are, Miss Belcourt,” Raphael says, the picture of polite helpfulness. He doesn’t bat an eyelash at the fact that Camille has suddenly decided that she’s going to accompany them. “Right this way.”

Magnus shakes his head a little, but keeps his mouth shut. Over the past week, he’s found that Raphael deals with Camille much better than he does. That’s not surprising, of course, given that Raphael doesn’t have the same history with her. He manages to just barely toe the line between helpful and subservient. Camille laps it up. She alternates between letting Raphael flatter her, and flirting shamelessly with Magnus no matter how much he makes it clear that he’s not interested.

“Viktor, darling!” Camille says, swanning out into the Kiev institute. She chats with them for several minutes in Ukrainian, which Magnus only speaks a few words of. “Well!” she finally says, turning back to Magnus. He’s annoyed at her for taking over what should by all rights be his operation, particularly since he’s sure she wouldn’t have approved it if he had actually asked. “They’ve located Valentine Morgenstern’s bunker. Shall we?”

“We should wait for Alec and Izzy,” Magnus says.

“They could be hours, and the instant Valentine realizes he’s under surveillance, he’ll be long gone,” Viktor says. “We should move now.”

Magnus grimaces. He doesn’t like it, but Viktor has a point. He glances at Raphael, who gives a quick nod to indicate that he agrees. “All right, let’s do it,” he says.

Valentine’s hideout is in Chernobyl, which isn’t exactly on Kiev’s doorstep, but they have a local warlock they contract with who builds them a portal. Magnus can’t help but shake his head. Raphael seems to agree, muttering, “Because if you don’t have a secret lair in Chernobyl, I don’t know why you bother being a super-villain at all,” which makes Magnus snort with laughter.

When they emerge outside the dilapidated building, another Shadowhunter comes jogging up to them. He starts talking to Viktor in Ukrainian, which irritates Magnus almost beyond bearing because he _knows_ they all speak English, the official language of Idris. They’re doing this just to shut him out, and it strikes him as incredibly petty.

Viktor turns to them when he’s done talking to his subordinate and says, “We’re late to the party, it seems.”

Raphael frowns slightly. “Your men went in without your go-ahead?”

Viktor shrugs. “I gave them instructions to proceed without us if they thought Valentine might have spooked.”

“He’s a powerful warlock, he – ” Magnus cuts himself off because it’s not his business to tell Viktor how to do his job. “As long as the party went successfully, I can’t complain. Where is he?”

“Who, Morgenstern?” Viktor shrugs one shoulder. “Resting in pieces.”

Magnus blinks. “They killed him?”

“Hard to take a warlock alive. You know that, Bane.”

“We _needed_ him alive,” Magnus says, his voice rising. “I was _very clear_ in my request. He had information that was crucial to – ”

“To who? Your Downworlder boy-toy?” Viktor laughs a nasty laugh. “We did our job, Bane. Rid the world of a freak of nature. And I don’t give a shit if you like it or not.”

He turns and walks away. Camille follows him, looking over her shoulder and giving Magnus a little wave goodbye.

Magnus kicks a piece of debris so hard that it sends a shock of pain all the way up to his knee. “Those _bastards_ , they – they just did this to – they never planned to help – ”

“Take it easy,” Raphael says. He has his phone out. “I’m texting Izzy to let her know where we are.”

“Oh, God.” Magnus sits down abruptly. “How am I going to look Alexander in the eye and tell him that I got Morgenstern killed? He needed to be able to interrogate him, to get answers from him. I just sentenced Jace to a possible eternity in limbo. All because I wanted to send a message to the Clave about how they couldn’t control me.”

“Look, Magnus,” Raphael says, not looking up from his phone. “This is chess, okay? You made a move, they made a move. We lost our asses on this one, but the game’s not over yet. This isn’t your fault, and I’m sure Alec will understand that.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Magnus asks. “I thought I was being so clever, I couldn’t see the obvious flaw in my plan.”

“It’s not like he saw it, either,” Raphael points out. “Or like I did. I knew the Clave was pissed, but that it had spread this far down – ”

“Viktor and I were at the Paris Academy together,” Magnus says glumly. “If I’d known he was here, I probably wouldn’t have tried this.”

“Still. Holding a grudge from Academy. That’s some petty shit.” Raphael looks up. “Izzy says she’s actually been to Chernobyl. I didn’t ask why. They’re on the plane now so they can’t portal, but she says they’ll be here as soon as they touch down.”

“All right.” Magnus looks at the building and sighs. “Guess we might as well head inside and see what’s there.”

What’s there is a cornucopia of horrors. Metal cages, some barely the size of dog kennels. A lab full of equipment, a table with rusty chains and bloody pliers. There are stacks of books, some of them leather-bound and hand-written. “ _Dios_ ,” Raphael says. “It’s like Texas Chainsaw Massacre in here.”

Magnus leafs through some of the books, and looks up as the door opens and Alec and Izzy come in. Alec is looking around the building with a somewhat wide-eyed expression. “Hey, I thought you’d have to call to get our location,” Magnus says, suddenly wanting to stall, to put off the news that Valentine was killed.

“Tracking spell,” Alec says, and tosses Magnus one of his rings. “You left it at my place the other day. Figured it was quicker and easier.”

“Fair point,” Magnus says.

“Why are we in . . . the pit of despair?” Izzy asks.

Magnus takes a deep breath and lets it out. “The Shadowhunters moved before we got here. Valentine didn’t come quietly, obviously, so they killed him.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I am so sorry, Alexander. I never would have told them we were looking for Valentine if I’d known they would do that. I made it clear that we needed him alive.”

Alec’s eyes go even wider. “This – is this Valentine’s lab?”

“So it would seem. They’ve probably known where it was for years, the bastards – ”

“Oh my God!” Alec grabs the first of the leatherbound books. “This – this is so much better than having _actual Valentine_. His journals, the records of his experiments – ” The words are tripping over themselves in an effort to escape. “Valentine’s a pathological fucking liar, even if we had caught him there was no guarantee we would have gotten the truth about anything, but this – I can’t believe it! Magnus, this is amazing!”

Magnus has to sit down abruptly. “I thought you’d be upset.”

Alec looks up and blinks, the motion particularly birdlike. “Oh, well. It was absolutely a piece of shit thing to do. The Shadowhunters were absolute – ” He looks at Izzy.

“Tampon garglers,” she says serenely, and Magnus laughs so hard that he nearly hurts himself.

“Come on, Iz, we need to get all this stuff back to New York – ”

Izzy nods and gestures to open a portal. The two of them start waving things through, and a few minutes later, all four of them are back in the study in Alec’s loft. “Now, I will go through this, because you know I’m better at potions than you and I have a degree in forensic science and you don’t,” she says, “and then we’ll work out a plan. And then we’ll tell Jace. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Alec says. “I have something else I need to do, anyway.”

“You do?” Magnus asks, a little puzzled, until Alec grabs him by the front of the shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. It last several long moments before Magnus manages to pull away and try to catch his breath. “Yes, that is an excellent plan – ”

Raphael snorts and shakes his head. “I’ll find my own way home, then.”

“Don’t wait up,” Magnus calls after him, as Alec pulls him out of the study and into the bedroom. Alec closes the door behind them before pulling Magnus into another kiss, starting on the buttons of his shirt. Not to be outdone, Magnus pushes his hands up underneath Alec’s T-shirt, pushing it over his head. Then he starts on Alec’s belt, and Alec fumbles the button he’s undoing. Magnus pauses. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I . . .” Alec tries to catch his breath. His face is flushed and his lips are so incredibly pink that Magnus is somewhat transfixed by them. “It’s just been . . . a really long time since I’ve done this.”

Magnus leans in and brushes his lips over Alec’s. “Then let me help you remember how good it can be.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> featuring, tragic history for Alec that I pulled out of my hat since he is not 400 years old in the show! =D

Magnus wakes up the next morning when his phone’s alarm goes off, and he groans and swats at it. He hadn’t thought to turn it off the night before. When he finally gets it to turn off and rolls over, he sees Alec stirring. “Good morning,” Alec mumbles, sighing contently as he nestles closer.

“Good morning,” Magnus replies, running his hand through Alec’s hair, tugging at the feathers that sprout from Alec’s temple. Alec’s eyes open at that, and leans in for a kiss. Before it can go any further, Magnus’ stomach lets out a growl, and they both laugh.

“Stay right here,” Alec says, sitting up. “I’ll make us breakfast.”

“Okay.” Magnus yawns and stretches, watching Alec’s naked body appreciatively as he climbs out of bed. Once he’s left the room, Magnus leans over to look at his phone. Other than the two texts he had received from Camille the previous evening, both of which he had ignored, there’s nothing new. He texts Raphael to ask if he’s needed back at the Institute any time soon.

‘No,’ Raphael replies a few moments later. ‘Camille’s on the warpath but what else is new.’

‘Sorry to leave you with her,’ Magnus texts back.

‘Don’t be. It’s kind of fun to watch her sulk.’

Magnus gives a little snort of laughter. He’s not surprised at all by the fact that Camille is annoyed, given how she probably envisioned the events of the previous day going. Magnus spending the night at Alec’s is definitely not what she would have expected.

“One thing Spain does _not_ have going for it is good breakfast dishes,” Alec says, coming back into the room. “Have you ever noticed that in Europe? The further south you go, the less they eat for breakfast. So I went with the more Western tradition of a heart attack on a plate.”

Magnus laughs, sitting up in bed as Alec sets down the tray he’s carrying. Each plate has a generous helping of hash browns, fried eggs, and bacon. They also each have half of a grilled tomato. “Great. I’m starved.”

“It was a lot of exertion,” Alec says, with a slight smile.

“Mm hm,” Magnus agrees, smirking. “Personally, I plan to exert myself a little more once we’ve eaten.”

“They don’t need you back at the Institute?” Alec asks, his mouth already full.

“Not at the moment. Raphael will let me know if they do.”

“Okay.” Alec leans over for a closed-mouth kiss, which Magnus returns a little more generously, now that his mouth is going to taste like bacon instead of morning breath.

One thing leads to another, and it’s long after noon before they manage to get out of Alec’s loft and head back to the Institute. Alec has been texting back and forth with Izzy about the progress she’s made on the things from Valentine’s lab. It’ll take time, Alec says, but Izzy’s a genius, so he’s not worried. “Are you sure you want me to come back to the Institute with you?” he asks, as he’s lacing his boots.

“Oh, absolutely,” Magnus says, with a gleam in his eye. Alec snorts a little, but doesn’t argue. “Joking aside, I need to work out. I’ve neglected it for the past few days. Camille tends to show up to be my audience. Maybe she won’t if you’re there.”

As it turns out, Camille is waiting for Magnus to come back. Her mouth purses with irritation as soon as she sees them come in, holding hands. “Mr. Bane,” she snaps, and Magnus just smiles at her pleasantly. “Why did you ignore my texts last night?”

“Was there a mission?” Magnus asks.

“Don’t answer my question with a question.”

Magnus pulls out his phone and starts recording their conversation, then pulls up the texts in question. “Let me explain to you why I did not reply to your texts, Miss Belcourt. The first, sent at nine thirty-two PM, read, ‘sweetheart, I miss you’. That is not the sort of text that requires a reply, particularly from a professional colleague. The second, sent at ten fifteen, read, ‘where are you and when are you coming home? I have plans for us tonight’ followed by an emoji that looks like the devil. Again, the text was inappropriate, so I did not respond. I had already told Raphael where I would be and I knew that if there was an actual mission for which my presence was required, he would let me know.”

Camille is looking more and more sour by the moment. “You don’t have to like me, Magnus, but I’m in charge of this Institute, and that means I am in charge of you.”

“Agreed,” Magnus says, “and if you had texted me saying ‘you’re needed back at the Institute for a mission’ I would have left the arms of my beautiful boyfriend to attend to the matter immediately. But that’s not what you texted me, Miss Belcourt, and so there was no reason for me to do so.”

“You didn’t know there wasn’t a mission.”

“As I said, Raphael would have texted me if there was. While we’re discussing this, I would like to mention that your unprofessional conduct makes me quite uncomfortable. I would prefer if you would cut it the fuck out.” Magnus continues to smile pleasantly. “Are we done here?”

“For now,” Camille says, and turns on her heel.

Magnus turns the recorder off. “Ugh. She’s a fucking nightmare.”

Alec leans in to kiss Magnus on the cheek. “She’s just mad because her plan to break us up by killing Valentine backfired.”

“Well, yes, but she’s also trying to break us up, which I find completely unacceptable.” Magnus scowls after her.

“We’ll handle it. Now come on. I seem to recall you promising to get shirtless and sweaty.”

Magnus laughs, his good temper returning. “And after that I’ll need a shower, of course . . .”

“Naturally,” Alec says, but he looks up as Raphael comes into the front hallway with Ragnor behind him.

Magnus is surprised as well. “Ragnor, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve hardly been banished,” Ragnor says, laughing. He steps over and pulls Magnus into a hug. “I have some news, thought I would come deliver it personally rather than just calling. Needed to get out of Idris for a few hours anyway. It’s definitely not my favorite place in the world.”

At this, Magnus scowls. “Are people giving you a hard time?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Ragnor says, brushing this aside. “I haven’t been having much luck locating your mother, but I think I might have found Luke, and he might know where she is.”

“Well, what are we waiting for,” Magnus says, clearly intending to depart at this exact moment.

Alec nods. “Where are we going? I might be able to portal us closer.”

“Actually, he’s here. In the city. I kind of wonder if he settled here so he could keep an eye on you. But I won’t know for sure until I actually get eyes on him, and I thought you might like to come along.”

“Absolutely,” Magnus says.

Alec reaches out and squeezes his hand. “Do you want me to come?”

“If you would, I’d like that,” Magnus says.

They’re out of the Institute a few minutes later. Ragnor says that there’s a detective named Luke Garroway who works for the NYPD, and he’s arranged a meeting. Magnus feels a little bad for Luke, who has no idea what sort of meeting he’s walking into. There’s a Chinese restaurant down on the docks, which Alec says is the den of the Brooklyn werewolf pack. Ragnor nods and says that they know Luke is a werewolf, so that makes sense. Alec is acquainted with the alpha and dislikes him intensely, but says he’s never met any of the pack members.

As soon as they walk into the dingy little restaurant and Magnus sees Luke, he recognizes him. It’s different from Clary, who he had only met the one time. Luke had been a part of his life for years, and he’s recovered a fair number of memories with him in them. He instantly knows him, and from the stunned look on Luke’s face, the feeling is mutual.

“Magnus,” he says, clearly uncertain of what sort of reception he’s going to get.

“Luke,” Magnus says, and surprises both of them by embracing him. He hugs him hard, and after a moment, Luke awkwardly pats his back. So many memories just flood in, all the times Luke had comforted him after yet another swift departure from his home, the times he had made Magnus dinner because Mei was out covering their tracks, the times he had read him bedtime stories and soothed him to sleep.

After a moment, Magnus pulls away and says, “You son of a bitch. You’ve been here this whole time.”

Luke winces a little. “One of us had to try to keep an eye on you, as much as we were able. Asm . . .” He stops suddenly.

Magnus sighs. “I know who my father is, Luke. We tracked down Clary and she gave me the whole story.”

“Ah.” Luke lets out a breath. “You hungry? This place doesn’t have the best customer service, but the food is great.”

“Sure.” Magnus sits down at the table that Luke indicates. When it looks like Alec, Raphael, and Ragnor might settle somewhere else so he can have some privacy, he waves them over and they sit down as well. Luke asks the waitress to bring them some tea and some menus. “What were you saying about Asmodeus?”

“He didn’t know that I was still alive,” Luke says. “Still doesn’t know, I hope. So he wasn’t looking for me. That made it pretty safe for me to stay near you – although God knows the Clave threw a wrench in that plan when they started moving you all over creation.”

“They wanted to know who my parents were,” Magnus says.

Luke shakes his head a little, then looks around the table. “So who are your friends? Ragnor I know from the old days, but . . .”

“This is my parabatai, Raphael Santiago,” Magnus says, and Luke shakes his hand, “and my boyfriend, Alec Lightwood.”

“High Warlock of Brooklyn.” Luke clearly recognizes the name, and then he smiles. “You’re _dating_ the High Warlock of Brooklyn.”

“We’re a bit beyond dating,” Magnus says smugly, and Alec flushes pink and nearly drops his cup of tea into his lap.

Luke just shakes his head again, still smiling. “Your mother would get a real kick out of that.”

Magnus swallows hard. “Where is she? Please, you must know. I just want to see her.”

Luke sips his tea in silence for a few moments before he says, “I haven’t heard from her in years. I . . . have to assume she’s dead, Magnus.” He sees the way Magnus’ hands tighten on his cup. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not the answer you want, but it’s the only one that makes sense. I heard Asmodeus had captured her. That was just after your eighteenth birthday. I tried to find her, but I couldn’t. And she . . . she’d be back by now, if she was alive. There’s no reason she wouldn’t have come to find you. She used to talk about it all the time, about how much she couldn’t wait until you had graduated so she could see you again and tell you the truth.”

Magnus feels tears stinging at his eyes. The waitress comes to take their order, but he’s completely lost his appetite. Luke tells her to come back in a few minutes. “If Asmodeus captured her, what if he still has her?”

“Then he would have found you. Look, I loved Mei. She was strong and brave and . . .” Luke’s voice trails off. “But everyone breaks, Magnus. The sort of torture Asmodeus knew . . . if he had really found Mei, then he would have forced her to tell him what she had done with you. She had . . . she had a potion. A warlock had made it for her. A poison that would kill her instantly if Asmodeus ever caught her.”

Magnus shakes his head. “No.”

“I’m sorry, Magnus,” Luke says. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Magnus protests. “After – after all this, she can’t – I don’t accept this. I’ll find Asmodeus, I’ll – ”

“No, you can’t,” Luke says. “Asmodeus is dangerous. Confronting him is the exact thing Mei never wanted you to have to do. She sacrificed her life to keep you safe from him, Magnus. Please don’t waste that.”

Magnus pushes back from the table. His mind is whirling and he can’t think. “I have to go,” he says, heading for the door.

Distantly, behind him, he hears Raphael say something, then Alec says, “I’ll take him back to my place.” He doesn’t protest as Alec gets an arm around him. A few moments later, they’re through a portal. He realizes that he’s crying, and Alec pulls him into an embrace without saying a word.

“It’s not fair,” he says into Alec’s shoulder.

Alec hugs him tighter. “I know.”

“She might not be dead. We don’t, don’t know for sure. And it’s not fair for Luke to talk about everything she gave up. He – he doesn’t – know what it’s been like for me, any more than I know what it was like for them. I can’t – I can’t just let this go.”

“I know,” Alec says again. He smoothes down Magnus’ hair and says, “But we don’t have to decide right now. Luke lost touch with her after your eighteenth birthday. That was seven years ago. A few more days won’t make a difference. We can take some time to think about what our next move should be.”

Magnus lets out a shuddering breath and nods, then says, “And – if I decide to go after Asmodeus?”

“Then you won’t be going alone,” Alec says immediately. “I’ll be right there with you.”

Magnus manages a smile at this. “Thank you, Alexander.”

Alec kisses him gently. “Why don’t we go see how Izzy is doing with all that stuff? That should distract you. Then we can make some food, maybe watch a movie.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Magnus says.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Izzy has made good progress on her work with Valentine’s materials, having found the journals he documented his experiments on Jace in, and isolated some of the compounds he had used. “So what I was thinking,” she says, after summarizing her work, “is that if I can find a possible antidote to the vampiric qualities, we should try it during one of his spells. That way we’ll have a clear answer on whether or not it does anything.”

Alec nods along with this. “That makes sense. Given that sometimes it’s months or even years between spells, we could give it to him and end up waiting for the other shoe to drop for literal decades.”

“Exactly.” Izzy gives them both a smile and says, “I think it’ll take me a week or two to whip up a possible antidote, but we’ll be ready when the time comes.”

“Great,” Alec says, and they’re both in a somewhat better temper as they head back up to Alec’s loft. He doesn’t really feel like cooking, now that he thinks about it, and he’s still trying to keep Magnus distracted, lest he think too much about his mother. “You want to go out and grab a bite?”

“Sure,” Magnus says, trying to look enthusiastic. “Any ideas?”

They go back to the Ethiopian restaurant where they’d had their first date. Magnus makes an effort, but his mood hasn’t improved much, and Alec can’t manage to cheer him up.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus says. “I’m not being a very good dinner companion.”

“It’s fine,” Alec says. “You’re upset. Who wouldn’t be?” He reaches across the table and takes Magnus’ hand. “At least you know . . . that she really did care. She didn’t just drop you off at the Institute to make her life easier.”

“Yeah. I suppose that should help.” Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not sure why it doesn’t.”

Alec shrugs. “I don’t think that knowing your mother loved you would make losing her any easier. I guess it makes it better in some ways and worse in others.”

“Yeah.” Magnus sighs. “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about how you met Jace.”

“Oh, God.” Alec laughs a little. “I hated that smug little prick at first. It was the early eighteen hundreds. Izzy and I had settled down in Austria for a little while. Which, I haven’t taken you to Vienna yet, have I? I should.” He waves this aside. “Anyway, there was this big group of warlocks living in Vienna at the time. Kind of a collective, I guess. Jace was only in his early twenties in actual years at that point, but he was talented and he knew it. He has that arrogant confidence to him . . . which to be honest, I was kind of attracted to.”

Magnus considers. “I can see it.”

Alec laughs again. “Thanks for the vote of support. Anyway, then the Napoleonic wars started and a whole lot of warlocks decided they were better off anywhere else. Izzy and I had lived in various parts of Europe for pretty much our entire lives, so when Jace asked if we wanted to go to America, where he was from, we said sure. Izzy had been before; I actually never had.”

“Where is he from? Not New York, I don’t think.”

“No, Virginia. He never knew who his father was – a lot of us don’t – and his mother had moved to Europe with him to look for Valentine, who was in Germany at the time. See, his mom had known Valentine and known that he had ‘powers’, so when Jace got his warlock marks, his mother went looking for Valentine, figuring he would know what to do.”

Magnus can’t help but wince. “I doubt ‘torture and experiment on her son’ was her goal.”

“No kidding. But you’re getting ahead of me. Jace’s mom didn’t know where Valentine was besides ‘Europe somewhere, probably’. So she wound up meeting the warlock conclave in Vienna, and they explained to her what Jace was and helped teach him use of his magic. Which is probably why he’s always been five hundred percent more well-adjusted about it. Most of us don’t have anyone teaching us until much later than that.”

Alec stops and takes a drink of his water. “So when Napoleon started doing his thing, the four of us went back to America. We lived in Massachusetts for a few years, but during that time, Valentine got wind of the fact that Jace’s mother was looking for him. And he found us.”

“You’ve never talked much about that.”

Alec shrugs. “It’s one of those things that’s easy to be guilty over, even though there’s no real reason. None of us knew what sort of person Valentine was. He showed up, invited Jace’s mother to come stay with him. She accepted. When we didn’t hear from her for a few days, Jace went over there to look for her. We never expected anything was wrong. Honestly, Izzy and Jace’s going theory was that Jace’s mom was _really_ enjoying Valentine’s company, and had lost track of time. But then Jace didn’t come back either.” He takes another drink of his water. “It took us four months to find him, and by then Valentine had put him through hell. He recovered, though. Bounced back a hell of a lot better than I would have, that’s for damned sure.”

“That’s pretty amazing.”

“Yeah. We didn’t realize that Valentine had, had _changed_ him until his first episode, which was almost eight months later. At that point, we figured out that all the needles filled with poison hadn’t just been to hurt him. That they had done something else.” Alec manages a smile and says, “But now we’ll get him better. Thanks to you.”

“Well, it wasn’t – ”

“Thanks to _you_ ,” Alec says, more firmly, and continues talking before Magnus can continue to demur. “Anyway, it’s funny because we’d all been living together like a family for two years before Jace went missing. If you’d asked me, I would have said I didn’t like him. He was cocky, brash, insensitive, egotistical. But God, when he disappeared, I was ready to turn the whole world upside down looking for him. I guess it taught me that caring about people isn’t always voluntary. Sometimes it happens whether you like it or not.”

Magnus laughs a little and leans forward, brushing his fingers through Alec’s hair at the spot that his feathers come out, when he’s not wearing his glamour. Quietly, he says, “Tell me about him. The man from Sevilla.”

Alec frowns slightly. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” Magnus says. “I know you’ve been alive a long time, that you’ve loved other people before me. It doesn’t bother me. They’re a part of you. I’d like to hear about them, if you want to talk about them.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Alec pulls back and studies his glass of water. “I mean, to really understand what happened with Fernando, you sort of have to know about Tomas, and . . . do you really want to hear about all of that?”

“I do. But again, you don’t have to talk about it.”

“I just haven’t in a long time, I guess. But it’d be easier if . . .” Alec signals the waiter for their check. Magnus doesn’t protest. He knows that some conversations are easier to have if the other person isn’t sitting across from you. He waits until they’ve paid and left the restaurant, and are walking along the paths in Prospect Park. Tentatively, he slides his hand into Alec’s, and he’s relieved when Alec squeezes it in response.

After a few minutes in silence, Alec says, “I met Tomas in Paris. He was a model.” He smiles a little despite himself. “I was bored, and Izzy had talked me into taking this art class. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Back then, things were different. You just didn’t _talk_ about sexuality the way you do now. I’d spent two hundred years trying not to be what I was. So there I am, a two hundred year old virgin. Safe to say I had issues.”

Magnus is laughing quietly. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

“When the class was over, Tomas came up to me and said he’d seen the way I was looking at him. I was freaking out, naturally, but he, uh.” Alec flushes a little pink. “Asked if I wanted a private session. He taught me so much, not just about sex, but about art, about life, about _passion_. I pretty much didn’t leave his flat for two weeks.”

“And then?” Magnus asks.

“We went out. Had a few drinks. It got late, and on the way home, two guys mugged us. One of them had a knife.” Alec’s voice has gone flat, monotone. “He went for Tomas, and I panicked and used my magic to throw them both into a wall. Tomas . . . looked at me like he had never seen me before. Asked me what I was. I tried to explain, but he turned and ran. I let him go. Figured it would be better to talk to him after he had calmed down. I went back to his flat, but he didn’t show up.”

Magnus says nothing.

“They pulled him out of the Seine two days later,” Alec finally says. “I don’t know if he jumped in, or if he just slipped and fell, or even if he was pushed. I’ll never know. I just know that I left him alone and he died. That’s a big part of why I hate to use my magic in public. Because of what happened to Tomas.”

“I’m sorry,” Magnus says.

“It always ends like that,” Alec says, not looking at him. “All my stories end like that. Everyone I’ve ever loved has died.”

Magnus squeezes his hand and says, “That’s not your fault.”

“It is, though. It’s always my fault. Fifty years after Tomas, I met Arthur, in London. What Tomas taught me about heat, Arthur taught me about warmth. Domesticity and reliability. We were together for three months. He went out to buy cigarettes. I could have gone with him, but I hated it when he smoked, so I made him go by himself. There was a carriage accident on the corner, and he was killed.”

“That still isn’t your fault,” Magnus says.

“Then there was Fernando, in Sevilla.” Alec closes his eyes for a brief moment. “It was 1935. I had gone back to Spain after Arthur died. I went to that cathedral a lot. After what happened with my mother, I had . . . a complicated relationship with religion. Going to church . . . I kept waiting for it to help, the way she always said it would. Fernando was a local who gave tours there. He noticed me and started talking to me. I shut him out for a while, but he was so kind and genuinely concerned.

“I didn’t keep secrets from him. I showed him who I was, what I was, because I figured it would make him turn away from me, but it didn’t. He loved me even knowing I was half demon. Even though I tried to warn him that loving me would only end in tragedy. We had one glorious year together. Then the Civil War broke out. He wanted to fight. I wasn’t about to let him go alone, so I went to war, too.

“I could have leveled entire battlefields, but I got a uniform and a rifle and I did my best to blend in. But when things went bad, I panicked. I couldn’t stand the idea of him being in danger. I opened a portal right in the middle of the damned war and pulled him through it. But I didn’t close it fast enough. A bullet went through and hit him. He died in my arms in the same fucking church where we met. I had opened a portal to the cathedral like it would be some sort of safe place, but it wasn’t. If we had stayed and fought – if _I_ had stayed and fought – he wouldn’t have died.”

“You don’t know that,” Magnus says quietly.

Alec shrugs. “I guess I don’t. Does it matter?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Alec just closes his eyes. “I can’t go back there.”

“That’s all right.” Magnus leans over and presses a kiss into the crown of his head. “It would be nice to go, but you don’t have to be ready. It’ll get better.”

“I know. That’s the worst part. That it gets better. It fades. I have sketches of Tomas, so I remember what he looked like, but I can’t remember the sound of his voice anymore. Arthur used to have a pet name for me, something really British like poppet, but I can’t remember what it was. Eventually I guess I’ll forget all of them. You have no idea how horrifying that is.”

Magnus can’t help but shudder. “I can’t even imagine.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, opening his eyes again. “I should be trying to comfort you right now, and instead of dumping this stuff all over you. Now you know why Izzy forbid me from talking about my exes.”

“True,” Magnus says ruefully. “But I’m glad to know about them. And if it helps at all, I’m not going anywhere. But I’m a little surprised . . . that you aren’t telling me not to go after Asmodeus.”

Alec shakes his head. “It’s not my choice to make. If you really want to go, I want to be at your back, protecting you. I don’t want to tell you not to go and have you go without me.”

“What would you do?” Magnus asks. “If it were you?”

“I would go,” Alec says immediately. “If there was even a one percent chance that my mother was alive, that Asmodeus had her captive – hell, if there was a point zero one chance, I would go. She wouldn’t want you to take that risk, okay. That’s her business. But she gave up the right to help you decide how to handle this when you erased your memory and gave you away. Even if she did that because she felt it was what was best for you. You’re an adult and you can make your own choices.”

Magnus nods. “Thanks. I think I’ll still take a few days to think about it.”

Alec puts his arm around Magnus’ waist and pulls him closer. “You want to go back to my place?”

“Absolutely.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a TRIGGER WARNING for sexual assault, because Camille is a terrible person. If you need more detail, see the notes at the end of the chapter.

As much as Magnus wants to spend the entire night (or possibly year) at Alec’s loft, he gets a text only an hour later saying that there’s a mission. He manages to pull himself away from Alec, who says he should probably be helping Izzy, anyway.

It’s a complicated assignment that turns out to end up three days of tracking the demon through the city. Magnus stays in touch with Alec over text, but only manages to see him once, and not for very long. Camille is, of course, stalking his every step. He doesn’t dare go over to Alec’s loft, but Alec comes over to the Institute, bringing him and Raphael some lunch. As much as he would like to sneak away for a quickie, he knows that Camille will only make a big deal of him ‘wasting time’ when he should be working on the mission.

By the time he and Raphael have finally cornered the demon and killed it, he’s ready to sleep for ten hours. His mood isn’t really improved when he walks into Institute and finds Luke Garroway waiting for him. He feels cautious and, to be honest, somewhat resentful. He knows that’s not fair. He knows that Luke has had a harder life than him.

Luke sees the expression on his face and says, “Hey, sorry to drop in on you like this, but I didn’t have your number. Is it a bad time?”

“To be honest, I don’t even know what time it is,” Magnus says.

Luke laughs quietly. “The busy life of a Shadowhunter, huh? It’s about nine AM. Been up all night?”

“Yes, but that’s nothing new.” Magnus doesn’t want Camille to overhear them talking, so he adds, “Tell you what – take me out to breakfast, and all is forgiven.”

“Sure,” Luke says, with another laugh. “Got a place in mind?”

“As it happens, I do.” Magnus heads for the café a few blocks from the Institute. They sit down there a few minutes later. “I’m sorry for storming out the other day,” Magnus says.

Luke shakes his head. “You were upset. I get it. In your shoes, I can’t say that I would have done any different. And I think I owe you an apology, too. I understand why you want to go after Asmodeus, and it’s not my job to tell you what you can or can’t do.”

Magnus sips his coffee in silence, thinking all of this over. “You’ve been through hell, and I know that. I know that you’re just afraid for me, after everything you and my mother gave up to protect me. And I don’t want you thinking that I’m not grateful for everything you did for me. You especially, because you didn’t even have a reason to.”

“I loved your mother.” Luke smiles, a somewhat wistful expression. “And she saved my life, you know. I wouldn’t have survived being turned into a werewolf if it hadn’t been for her. So I had my reasons, and I don’t have any regrets. Mei gave up a lot more than I did. She could have stayed in the Clave, kept her position. I never could have done that. Asmodeus made that decision for me. So when she came to me, saying she had decided she needed to get out . . . there was only one answer I could give. Only one answer I wanted to give.

“But . . . what I was thinking after you left is that, you know, we _did_ it. We kept you safe. You grew up and became a damned good Shadowhunter. We did what we set out to do, and maybe it’s not my place to tell you what to do about Asmodeus. I think maybe that’s a decision that you’ll have to make yourself.”

Magnus nods a little. “It’s . . . it’s the _not knowing_ that gets me. Because even with everything you went through, you can’t understand what it was like for me. Being an orphan, a mystery, wondering who my parents were and why they didn’t want me.” He sees Luke open his mouth and adds, “I know you never meant it that way. And I knew it then, too. All the evidence pointed to the fact that I had been left in New York for my own protection. But . . . there was always that voice in the back of my head. And now, I’ve finally found out who my mother is, but I still don’t even know whether or not she’s alive or dead.”

“I wish I could tell you. All I know is that she told me, multiple times, that if Asmodeus ever caught her, she would use that potion to kill herself before he could get your location out of her.” Luke carefully peels the wrapper off his muffin, not looking at Magnus. “I guess it’s possible he could have kept her from doing so. That she could still be his captive. Anything is possible.”

“I have to know,” Magnus says. He searches for the words to describe how he feels, but all that comes out is a repeated, “I have to _know_.”

Luke nods. “I know. But please be careful. I can’t tell you not to go, but I think I can be forgiven for asking that much.”

“I will be. And if it helps, I won’t be going alone.”

“Mm hm.” Luke sits back in his seat, and now he smiles. “The High Warlock of Brooklyn, huh? You’re sure he’s not just a gold-digger?”

Magnus laughs. “Pretty sure, yes.”

“How’d that end up happening?”

“I actually went to him for help regaining my memories,” Magnus says. He tells Luke about meeting Alec, getting to know him while they tried the magic, about the way Alec chronically undercharged him because really, he just wanted to help Magnus. “So in an odd way, I suppose I have my mother to thank for this,” he adds, with a laugh.

Luke nods, and he’s laughing, too. “I’ve heard about you, you know. I try to keep tabs on what’s going on in the supernatural world, and the Downworld has ears everywhere. A lot of people have been talking about you. The new Shadowhunter, who actually treats the Downworlders as equals. God, your mother would be proud. Not just because you’re powerful and talented – anyone could have predicted that, given who your parents are. But you have so much heart. I don’t know if we can take credit for that, but I know that she would be proud as hell.”

Magnus flushes pink. “I might not have remembered you and my mother, but I still knew you, somehow. But mostly I think I learned it from Ragnor. Because of the way he stood up for me, protected me and advocated for me, when most of the Clave would have preferred to just throw me back onto the streets. That’s one of the first things I really remember – that idea that there could be people out there willing to ignore the helpless, and people who protected them. And the decision that I never, _ever_ wanted to be one of the former.”

Luke reaches across the table and squeezes Magnus’ hand. “For what it’s worth, you’ve achieved that in spades.”

“I know.” Magnus smiles slightly and says, “So now I guess it’s time I faced Asmodeus and make sure he never hurts anybody again.”

“Oh, boy.” Luke leans back in his chair and sighs. “And how do you intend to do that?”

“Don’t worry,” Magnus says. “I already know how to find him.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“So you’re sure you want to go ahead with this?” Alec asks.

Magnus nods. “Once we’ve removed the block Clary put on me, you should be able to use my blood to find both my parents.”

“Okay. Let’s get to it.” Alec gestures for Magnus to follow him into his work room. He’s not much of an artist, in his own opinion, but years of practice have gotten him better at drawing the symbols and pictures that some magic requires. Magnus watches in interest as he sketches out the design of the spell on the concrete floor with his colored chalk.

Once that’s done, Alec hands Magnus a silver knife. “So what happens now is that you stand in the center of the circle and draw a drop of blood. When it hits the floor, the spell will activate. I’ll do the rest.”

“Okay.” Magnus accepts the knife and takes a deep breath.

Alec reaches out and squeezes Magnus’ shoulder. “No matter what happens, if your mother is alive or not, you won’t be facing it alone.”

“Thank you,” Magnus says, smiling at Alec and enjoying the way his face flushes pink when he sees Magnus smile. He takes Alec’s free hand and gives it a squeeze in return, feeling the butterflies in his stomach ease. Then he steps into the circle. Alec stands on the outside, magic drifting off his hands. He nods to indicate that he’s ready. Magnus makes a small cut in his pinky finger and lets the blood drip onto the floor.

The circle flares to life. It glows with blood red magic for several long moments, then dies down. Magnus looks around, half-expecting Asmodeus to be right behind him. “Was that it?”

“That was it, for the first part,” Alec says. He sees Magnus frowning and says, “That was just undoing the binding. Now we have to do the actual locator spell.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Magnus shakes his head a little. “Sorry.”

“Still impatient, I see,” Alec teases him. Magnus takes a moment to think about how to respond to that, before sticking his tongue out at Alec. Alec swoops in for a kiss, and for several long moments, Magnus forgets all about blood magic and missing parents. When Alec pulls away, he’s out of breath. The warlock is smirking slightly as he uses his magic to wipe the floor clean. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t have the artistic skill necessary to draw an accurate picture of the world. So we’re going to cheat.”

“I love cheating,” Magnus says, and Alec laughs. He conjures up a book of maps and pulls out a world map, laying it down on the floor and weighting down the corners.

“This only gives us a place to start, but, well.” Alec shrugs. “A place to start is good. So, kneel here.”

Magnus kneels down at one edge of the map and holds his hand out, palm up, when Alec gestures at him. Alec gently squeezes another drop of blood out of the cut on Magnus’ pinky. It drips onto the map, but doesn’t soak into the paper. Instead, it gradually slides over to Indonesia.

“So the Clave was right; he is in Jakarta,” Magnus says. He sees Alec frowning and says, “What is it?”

“Well . . . one of two things. The drop of blood didn’t split in two. Which means either your mother is in the same place as Asmodeus . . .”

“Or she’s dead,” Magnus finishes for him. He closes his eyes, but nods. “Well, no time like the present to find out.”

“Let’s narrow it down a little from ‘Jakarta’,” Alec says, looking through his book of maps. “It’s not exactly a tiny city.”

They do the spell again, this time with a map of Jakarta itself, and Alec decides that they have a location good enough to proceed from. He hasn’t been to Jakarta himself, but he says he has a friend who has (“Well, okay, Izzy has a friend who has”) and about an hour later, they’re on their way. The tropical air is muggy, and Magnus sees Alec grimace as they come out into it. He laughs quietly, amused despite the situation.

Alec has taken another drop of Magnus’ blood and put it in a little glass vial. He’s watching it as they walk down the road, more than he’s watching the traffic. Magnus has to keep him from being hit by a car twice and other pedestrians more times than he can count.

It leads them out of the beautiful area Alec’s friend had started them in, and into a series of small back alleys. Alec hesitates at one corner, watching the vial intently.

“What is it?” Magnus asks.

“The spell can’t decide on a direction.”

Magnus’ breath catches in his throat. “She’s alive.”

“Maybe.” Alec is a little more cautious. “Magic is finicky. But that’s a possibility, yeah. That it can sense both your parents and so it can’t indicate a direction because they’re in different places.” He holds one hand underneath the vial, tendrils of magic coming off his palm and surrounding it in a soft glow. “I’m trying to get it to just take us to whichever one is closer. No way to know which that one will be, but – ah, there it goes.” The vial swings sharply in one direction, and they start walking again.

A few minutes later, they’re at a metal door. Alec gestures it open and Magnus proceeds inside, coughing slightly at the dense, smoky atmosphere. There are neon lights and televisions on the walls and beautiful, scantily clad women everywhere. Alec’s gaze flicks to all the corners of the room, just as someone blocks their path. “Sorry, gentlemen. This is a private club.”

“We’re looking for Asmodeus,” Magnus says, since this seems far more likely to be his father’s sort of place than his mother’s.

The man shrugs. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Yes, it is. Tell him – ” Magnus realizes that he’s not sure if his father even knows his name. “Tell him Mei’s son is here to see him. He’ll know who I am. And if he finds out later I was here, and you didn’t tell him, he will be extremely upset.”

The man regards them for a few moments, then abruptly turns and walks away. Magnus watches him go through a door in the back. He’s glad that Alec is with him, and is suddenly wishing that he had brought Raphael, who would undoubtedly disapprove of this entire venture.

It seems like a small eternity before the man returns and says, “Follow me.”

Magnus twines his fingers through Alec’s before following the man through the club, wending his way through tables and crowds before they go through the same door he had disappeared through before. It leads them down a small, sterile hallway, but then into a richly appointed room that’s a world apart from the one in the front. There are tables for roulette and baccarat, and well-dressed men and women playing at them. The waitresses are wearing cocktail dresses rather than lingerie, and there isn’t the pervasive smoke in the air.

There’s a man waiting just instead, dressed in a slim black suit, and Magnus can immediately see the resemblance between them. He might have his mother’s eyes, but he has his father’s jaw, and apparently, fashion sense. The suit is simple, but the shirt is only buttoned about halfway up, and he’s wearing a number of necklaces and rings, along with the same sort of smoky eyeshadow that Magnus himself favors. Magnus knows he has to be in his fifties, but he’s aged well; they could be brothers rather than father and son.

Asmodeus doesn’t seem to see their resemblance the same way. In fact, he greets them by saying, “My God, you are the spitting image of your mother.”

Magnus has to take a deep breath before he manages to respond, “You must be Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus quirks an eyebrow at him, then takes a little half-bow. “In the flesh. I suppose formal introductions are no bad thing. I don’t actually know your name.”

“It’s Magnus.” He has to swallow hard, squeezing the words out. “Magnus Bane.”

“I’ve been looking for you for twenty-five years, my son,” Asmodeus says, “and after all that, you found me.”

“As a means to an end,” Magnus says. “I’m looking for my mother. Not you.”

That eyebrow goes up again, and then Asmodeus laughs. “Well, follow me, then.” He heads towards the back of the room, pushing aside a beaded curtain. They come out into a small office, and there’s a portal on the back wall. “I had this put in by . . . a friend,” he says, with a smile that shows teeth. “It goes back to my estate. Shall we?”

“Certainly.” Magnus allows his father to take him by the wrist and guide him through the portal. They come out onto a wooden platform on a sandy beach, in front of one of the most palatial residences that Magnus has ever seen. Even Alec looks impressed, as they follow Asmodeus up the steps and into an open, airy foyer. The whole place is built out of wood and polished to a shine, with white fabric curtains instead of glass windows or doors.

“Drink?” Asmodeus asks.

Magnus opens his mouth to say no, but realizes his father is going to drag this out regardless of what he says or does. “Sure.”

Asmodeus walks through the foyer and into another room which has an impressive looking bar. “You haven’t introduced your friend.”

“Alexander Lightwood,” Magnus says, gesturing. “The High Warlock of Brooklyn.”

Asmodeus doesn’t look up from where he’s pouring brandy into three glasses. “Why Brooklyn, rather than New York City? Is there a higher warlock in Manhattan or Queens?”

Alec accepts the glass he’s handed without blinking. “I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn because I live in Brooklyn.”

Magnus hides his laugh in a cough, and takes his own glass. But he doesn’t drink. “My mother.”

“I see you’re a full Shadowhunter,” Asmodeus says, ignoring his request and instead gesturing to the runes that are clearly visible. “Clever of her. Like hiding a needle in a haystack made out of needles. I never thought to look for you at any of the Academies. It never occurred to me that they would admit you.”

“She is very clever, yes,” Magnus says. “I’d like to see her.”

Asmodeus is still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You came all this way. I’d like to get to know you a little better. You are my son, after all.”

“I’ve had two fathers in my life,” Magnus says. “Neither of them were you.”

“As I’m sure you know, it wasn’t my choice to be removed from your life.” Asmodeus sips his brandy, watching Magnus over the edge of the glass. “It broke my heart when I learned you and Mei had died in that fire . . . and broke it again tenfold when I found out that you hadn’t. That she had cut me off from you.”

Magnus takes a deep breath and lets it out. “All right. You want to get to me know a little better? Let me tell you a few things. When I found out you were my father, I didn’t want to believe it. You are everything that is the opposite of what I believe in. You are hatred and cruelty, envy and bigotry. You destroyed hundreds, thousands of lives. You slaughtered innocent people because you were jealous of the talents they possessed.”

“You’ve only gotten one side of the story.”

“When the other side committed genocide, I don’t need to hear their version of the story,” Magnus shoots back. “I’ve come to accept that you gave my mother the sperm that created me, but you will _never_ be my father. I’ll thank God every day for the rest of my life that my mother got me away from you before you had a chance to raise me in your image. I came here for her. Not for you. Never for you.”

Asmodeus studies him for a few moments, his gaze cold and unnerving, before he says, “So be it, then. Follow me.”

Magnus clutches Alec’s hand involuntarily as they follow Asmodeus out of the bar and into a smaller room that looks like a bedroom. There’s a woman lying on the bed, dressed in a casual blouse and jeans, dark-haired and slender. Her body is surrounded by a pale green glow, and her eyes are closed. But Magnus knows her. “Mama.” He sinks to his knees at her side, and reaches out to her, but the magic blocks his way. It feels odd, cold and tingly, almost painful to touch. “What have you done to her?”

“I’ve done nothing except keep her alive,” Asmodeus says. “When my men found her, she drank a potion that sent her into this state. I’ve spent the last seven years trying to bring her back, to no avail.”

Magnus forces himself to take a deep breath and then let it out. “Alec?”

“Let me take a look.” Alec kneels beside him, holding one hand over Mei’s body, letting his own magic drift off his fingers and probe into the spell. There’s a little electric crackle, and he frowns, pressing his fingers against the shell surrounding Mei. “It’s certainly nothing I know how to break right now. I could maybe figure it out, though, with time and some research. I think I’ve seen a spell like this before, although it was a long time ago.” He looks over at Asmodeus. “You said it was caused by a potion?”

“Mm hm.” Asmodeus is watching him carefully. “I . . . interviewed the warlock who made it. But unfortunately, she died before telling me how it was done.”

“Shocking,” Alec says, turning back to Mei. “I bet she wasn’t the only one you ‘interviewed’.”

“No. In fact, I’ve had at least a dozen warlocks try to break it. None have been able to.”

Alec stands up and turns to Magnus. “I can’t make you any promises, but I’ll try. Let’s get her back to my loft.”

Asmodeus holds up a hand. “I don’t think so. Mei will remain here, with me.”

“You don’t get to make that decision,” Magnus says. “She’s in this state because of you. Because she knew if you got a hold of her, you would torture my location out of her. I don’t want her to spend another minute in this house with the man who did this to her.”

“So you suggest I let her go with you? She would disappear from my life a second time. I would never see her again. In fact,” Asmodeus adds, one hand resting on the hilt of his seraph blade, “I think it would be best for all of us if Lightwood stayed here with her while he attempted to break the binding.”

Magnus glances around and sees several men standing in the room’s two doorways. All of them have a Circle rune on their neck, and have drawn their blades.

Alec doesn’t flinch. “It may shock you to hear this, Asmodeus, but you can’t torture someone into remembering something. I said I’ve seen something like this before, and I meant it, but I don’t know exactly where. I need to look through my library. I’ve read thousands of magical texts in my lifetime. You could hurt me all you wanted, but it’s not going to get your wife out of that coma.”

For a long moment, Asmodeus appears to consider. Then he takes his hand off his blade. “Fair enough. What’s your price, warlock?”

“There is no price,” Alec says. “No negotiation. I’m not doing this for you, and there’s nothing you could give me that I would want.”

“Not even my son’s life?” Asmodeus asks, and two of the Circle members start forward.

Magnus whips out his blade. He moves so quickly and gracefully that both of the Shadowhunters are on the floor before they can figure out what’s happening. The third rushes towards them, and Alec jabs upwards with two fingers, producing a burst of magic right underneath the man’s throat, suspending him in midair. He groans, struggling to get free.

“All right, you’ve made your point,” Asmodeus says, his eyes glinting. “But Mei stays with me.”

Alec glances over at Magnus, without releasing the Nephilim he has suspended, and says, “It could be weeks or months until I’ve figured out how to break the spell. I think it’s okay to leave her here.”

“What if he moves her? Blocks the connection?”

“He can’t do any magic to her while she’s shielded by that spell,” Alec says. “I’ll be able to find her again.”

Magnus lets out a slow breath, and then nods. “All right.”

Asmodeus smiles at them as Alec opens a portal to get them home. “I’ll be seeing you.”

They emerge back into the loft, and Alec closes the portal behind them. They both sit in silence for a long moment before Alec says, “What a dick.”

Magnus lets out a choked little laugh. “God, he is that. Do you really think it’s safe to leave her there?”

Alec nods. “He’s kept her alive this long. He wants her awake. What we do after I’ve found a way to break the spell is going to be complicated, but for now, yes, I think it’s okay to leave her there. I know patience isn’t your strong suit, but it _is_ going to take me a while to figure out where I might have seen something like that before.”

“I can wait. I wouldn’t . . .” Magnus lets out a breath. “I wouldn’t have any of this if it weren’t for you.”

Alec flushes pink. “Yeah, well, uh. You know. You paid me for it. Though to be honest, I probably would have done it for free. Which isn’t the point.” He sees the way Magnus is looking at him with amused fondness. He clears his throat and says, “It was my pleasure.”

Magnus leans in for a kiss, one hand gently caressing the side of Alec’s neck. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Alec says, and kisses him again. He’s just backing them into the bedroom when his phone chimes. “God damn it,” he mutters, grabbing it. It’s a text from Izzy. “Shit. Jace is having an episode. She wants to test her potion she’s made – I have to go.”

“Okay.” Magnus gives him another brief kiss. “Raphael had actually told me this morning that we were going to have a mission tonight – demon that only comes out once the sun is down, that we’ve been tracking. I’ll text you when it’s over to see how Jace is feeling.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

It’s late by the time Magnus’ mission is over. Magnus sends Alec a quick text to let him know everything went okay, and Alec texts back saying that Jace is feeling a lot better. They can’t be sure if what they tried was actually a cure, but it’s definitely an improvement. Magnus tells him that he’s looking forward to hearing about it the next day, along with a picture of himself blowing a kiss.

When he gets back to his quarters, he finds Camille there. She’s wearing only a negligee and a loose silk robe, and has a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table. Magnus looks her up and down and then says, “Get out.”

“Sweetheart, please. Come sit down with me. Just for a minute.” Camille smiles, uncorking the bottle of wine and pouring two glasses. “I want to discuss terms of an arrangement that would benefit both of us.”

“Why do I doubt that?” Magnus sets his phone to record and then puts it down on the table. “Talk.”

Camille picks up her glass of wine and takes a swallow. “You’re making things unnecessarily difficult on yourself, you know.”

Seeing her drink, Magnus feels safe to drink as well, and does so. He feels like he could use the wine to fortify himself against this discussion. “If this is going to be another marriage proposal, you can keep it to yourself. I have no interest in being your husband.”

Camille makes a pouting face, but it doesn’t derail her. “You’ve made that perfectly clear. And Viktor, for all his faults, is an _excellent_ lover. Not as good as you, of course, but I’ll make do.”

“That’s wonderful. Congratulations to both of you. What does that have to do with me?”

“If I can finally end my Godawful assignment here and get back to a continent worth my time, I’ll be taking a post at the Institute in Kiev. Viktor has gained some real capital after taking down Valentine, and he’s using it to get himself a promotion. Which only matters to you because I can’t have you making a fuss about the fact that he killed Valentine after you specifically requested he be taken alive.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Since Valentine being killed didn’t actually hinder what we needed from him, fine. I’ll sing Viktor’s praises to the moon and back if it gets you out of my hair.” He takes another sip of his wine, which is actually a very good red. Camille always did have a taste for the finer things in life.

“Ah, Magnus,” Camille sighs, looking at him fondly, in a manner that he finds profoundly irritating. “I do so adore you. I hope that we’ll be able to put all this unpleasantness behind us.”

“Trust me, my dear,” Magnus says, “after you leave this Institute, I hope I will never have to think of this unpleasantness again. Or you, at all, ever.”

“Of course, given the reports I’ve turned in so far, you may not be able to keep your post here.” Camille shrugs. “I could stay a little longer. Gradually report that you’re improving, until I can write a recommendation and have it not seem forced.”

Magnus refuses to rise to her baiting. “Do what you want,” he says. “It’s what you’ll do anyway.”

“Mm hm.” Camille stirs her wine with her pinky.

Magnus sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are we done, then? It’s late, and I’d like to get some sleep.” He stands up to show her to the door, and the world wobbles beneath his feet. He stumbles, catching himself on the table. “The hell,” he mumbles, as his vision fades in and out.

“Oh, darling, don’t try to get up.” Camille’s arm is around his waist, and she’s steering him over to the bed. He hears her click her tongue, and then she picks up his wrist and swipes his thumb across the screen of his phone. “Recording our conversations, Magnus? Really? Where’s the trust? Let me just delete that . . .”

“The fuck did you do,” Magnus says. He tries to sit up, but his muscles aren’t cooperating. He can barely move.

“The wine, darling,” Camille says, without a hint of remorse. “A shame to waste such a good Cabernet, but one does what one must.”

“You drank it too,” Magnus mumbles.

“Of course I did. You wouldn’t have trusted it if you hadn’t seen me drink from the same bottle. That’s why the potion was already in your cup before I poured the wine. A simple little glamour, dear.”

“Fuck,” Magnus says, because he feels like he should say something but he can’t think of anything else.

“Now, let me see. Your boyfriend didn’t believe it last time I texted him. What should I say? I can’t just try to break up with him on your behalf. He’d never believe that, not after this _adorable_ selfie you sent him. How about . . . ‘Being transferred to Jakarta. Not letting me have time to say goodbye. Will try to call you.’ There we are. Now he won’t be expecting to hear from you for a few days.”

“What are you doing?” Magnus asks, trying again to sit up.

“Oh, I have plans for you, dear . . .” Camille gets on the bed with him, sliding her hands underneath his shirt, pushing it over his head. She moves around his arms as if he was a doll, and he can’t stop her. She leans in for a kiss, playing with one of the ribbons on her negligee. “Don’t worry, though. I specifically told the warlock who made the potion that I’d need you to be able to get it up. You won’t embarrass yourself.”

“Camille,” Magnus mumbles, because he wants to fight, but the world is coated in fog and he can barely think. What comes out is simply, “Please don’t.”

Camille nibbles at his ear, her hands working at his belt. “You’ve been terribly cruel to me. I just want to get paid back for everything you’ve put me through.”

There’s a huge crashing sound.

She’s gone so suddenly that it takes Magnus a moment to realize she’s no longer on top of him. He tries to look around, his muddled mind trying to play catch up. He manages to lift his head enough to see Camille pinned against the far wall, held up by streams of fiery red magic.

“Are you okay?” Alec demands, using one hand to keep Camille in place as he kneels beside the bed.

Magnus can only stare at him. “I . . . I don’t feel right. The wine.”

Alec’s gaze flicks over to the table. “Izzy!” he shouts, and she emerges from the portal a few seconds later. “Grab those glasses. I’ve got Magnus.” He snaps his fingers, and the red magic holding Camille in place transforms to a more focused, intense binding. “You just stay where you are until I have a chance to deal with you.”

Three seconds later, they’re back in Alec’s loft. Alec lays Magnus down on the sofa. “Izzy, figure out what was in that glass and find a counter for it, will you?”

“On it,” Izzy says, vanishing from the room.

“Hey, hey,” Alec says gently, smoothing back Magnus’ hair. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m never going to let her touch you.”

“She texted you,” Magnus mumbles. “I thought . . .”

“Yeah, she was more clever than last time, I’ll give her that,” Alec says. “But I wasn’t _sure_ it was you, and I figured no harm in checking on you. And potentially a lot of harm if I didn’t.” He caresses Magnus’ cheek, but then pulls back. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want anyone touching you right now, I’d understand, I – ”

“No,” Magnus interrupts. “Please don’t – don’t let me go.”

“Never,” Alec says immediately, taking one of Magnus’ hands and giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He sees Magnus’ eyes fluttering. “Just get some rest if you want to. Izzy will whip up an antidote to whatever Camille dosed you with, but until then, just . . .”

Magnus closes his eyes and lets the world fade away.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Camille drugs Magnus' wine and assaults him, although she does not get very far (takes his shirt off but not his pants) before Alec intervenes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *innocent whistling*

Magnus is only vaguely aware as someone is cradling his face, tilting his head up. He tastes something cold, a little sour, and swallows automatically.

Clarity returns in a vicious snap, bringing with it an intense throbbing in his temples. He lurches upright, gasping for breath. Alec catches him before he can jerk right off the sofa. “Hey, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” he says.

“Oh, God.” Magnus presses one hand against his mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“It’s okay.” Alec conjures up a basin and sits beside him, rubbing one hand up and down Magnus’ back. “Just breathe.”

Magnus does as he’s told, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. He keeps that up for he doesn’t even know how long, until his stomach settles and the pain in his head subsides. Then he looks up. Alec is still next to him, and Izzy is crouched in front of him, holding the basin. “I’m all right,” he says.

Izzy sets the basin aside. “Sorry for the, uh, abruptness of it,” she says. “It was the best antidote I could do on short notice.”

“It’s fine. And thank you.” Magnus takes one of each of their hands in his own, squeezes hard. “Thank you.”

Alec nods. “How are you feeling?”

“A little nauseous still. But mostly all right. How long was I out?”

“About an hour.” Alec’s still holding his hand. “I thought about just letting it pass, but . . .”

Magnus opens one eye. “But?”

“But,” Alec continues with a sigh, “Raphael has been texting me with increasing urgency about how I have to get you back to the Institute because Camille is telling everyone I attacked her with no provocation and basically trying to get me arrested and/or executed.”

“That _bitch_ ,” Magnus snarls, lurching to his feet. His stomach immediately does a backflip. He drops to his knees and only barely gets to the basin before he throws up violently.

“Sip this,” Izzy says a few moments later. “It’s just water.”

Magnus takes a mouthful and spits it into the basin. Then he takes a few sips, still feeling quite sick. Alec is kneeling beside him, one hand caressing the back of his neck, down his spine. “We don’t have to go back right now if you don’t feel up to it,” Alec says. “Camille can go to hell. We don’t have to dignify her accusations with a response.”

“We do, though,” Magnus says. “Raphael’s right about that. Camille has pull with the Clave. If the people here won’t arrest you, she’ll find people who will. I have to tell the Clave what happened, that your attack on her was justified.”

Alec nods. “If you’re sure.”

“Well, no, I’d much rather vomit a few more times, shower for the next several hours, and then get some sleep,” Magnus says, with a wan smile. “But I don’t want you in danger, so let’s get it over with.”

“Here,” Izzy says, handing him a T-shirt that she’s nabbed from Alec’s room. Magnus pulls it over his head, takes a deep breath, and nods at Alec to indicate that he’s ready to go. “Do you want me to come?”

“No,” Alec says. “They’re going to make a huge deal out of it and I don’t want you tangled up in it. Stay here, mind the fort.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Izzy salutes, but the look of concern on her face as Alec opens the portal persists.

Alec portals them onto the front steps, so they can enter through the front door. Magnus is gripping his hand much too hard. They’ve barely taken two steps inside when Raphael jogs up. “Didn’t you see my last text?”

“What? No, I was busy, Izzy had the antidote – ”

“Get out of here, get out _right now_ ,” Raphael says, but it’s too late. Camille has already charged into the front hall with several other Nephilim behind her. Magnus recognizes one of them as an Inquisitor, Iris Rouse.

“There he is!” Camille bursts out. Her face is tear-streaked and her voice trembles, and Magnus hates every molecule in her body with a growing passion.

Two other Shadowhunters appear as if from nowhere and grab Alec by the elbows. He doesn’t resist, staying calm as Camille flounces over with the Inquisitor behind her. “Warlock Lightwood,” the Inquisitor begins, her nose in the air, “you are under arrest for – ”

“Inquisitor,” Magnus interrupts, not letting go of Alec’s hand, “we don’t deny that Alec used magic against Camille, but there were circumstances – ”

“Yes, I know,” Rouse says impatiently. “Camille explained them to me. Your . . . lover,” she says, her nose wrinkling, “found Camille on top of you, and – ”

“And I removed her,” Alec says coldly, “as I knew she was not wanted there.”

Rouse’s lips thin. “Perhaps one of you will allow me to finish a sentence? Thank you. I am aware, warlock, that you were under the impression that Camille’s overtures were unwelcome. That does not excuse violence on your part, let alone the degree to which you employed it. Camille could have been seriously injured, as you removed her with such extreme prejudice.”

“Inquisitor,” Magnus says again, trying to keep his temper, “Camille drugged me.”

The Inquisitor’s gaze flicks to Camille, but she doesn’t address her. Instead, she says to Alec, “And how did you know this?”

“What?” Alec is a little puzzled by the question. “The glass of wine – ”

“ _After_ you attacked Camille, you might have been able to talk to Magnus and ascertain that he had been drugged. _After_ you attacked Camille, you could have tested the wine glass for illegal substances. But at the moment when you attacked her, you knew nothing of this.”

“I’m sorry,” Magnus says, “but can we get back to the part where this woman drugged and sexually assaulted me, rather than dwelling on the moment in which my boyfriend protected me from further assault?”

“Any charges you wish to bring against Miss Belcourt will be dealt with in due time,” the Inquisitor says. “As it stands, Alexander Lightwood attacked a member of the Clave. He did so with possibly lethal force. He could have simply ordered her to get off you, or removed her in a less violent fashion. He did neither of those things. He violated the Accords.”

Magnus has to speak through gritted teeth. “Fine. We can bring this to a trial and the truth will – ”

“There is no need for a trial,” Rouse interrupts him. “Trials are for members of Nephilim society. Not for Downworlders. The Accords do not require us to give him a trial. You have already admitted to his conduct. Therefore, he will face the according punishment. For attempted murder on a member of the Clave, that punishment is execution.”

“That – that’s ridiculous,” Magnus manages to stammer. “He wasn’t trying to kill her, he was – ”

Raphael steps up beside him. “Respectfully, Inquisitor, we would like to petition for a trial.”

“Respectfully, Shadowhunter, I don’t give a damn what you want to petition for.” The Inquisitor gestures to the men holding onto Alec. “Take him to the dungeons. He is to be executed at sundown tomorrow.”

The men start to pull Alec away. Magnus takes a step forward, but Raphael grabs him by the elbow. “Don’t,” he says, in a low voice. “You’ll only make things worse.”

“I can’t – ” Magnus begins.

“Magnus, it’s fine,” Alec says, his voice firm and clear. “Listen to Raphael. I’m sure that the two of you will get things worked out.”

Magnus feels panic starting to bubble in his throat. He’s breathing too fast and he knows it. But he stays quiet as the Nephilim pull Alec out of the room. The Inquisitor turns on her heel and walks away. Camille gives Magnus a coy little wave and then follows.

“I’ll kill her,” Magnus says, the words squeezed out of his rapidly closing throat. “I’ll really kill her.”

“Come on, breathe,” Raphael says. “We can handle this.”

“I can’t, Raphael.” Magnus grips at Raphael’s wrist. “I can’t. If they kill Alec – ”

“No one is going to kill Alec.” Raphael turns him and gives him a little shake. “Think, Magnus. Focus. They’re going to execute him at sundown _tomorrow_. Why? Why would they wait? Rouse could order him murdered right now and there’s not a damned thing we could do to stop her, so why are they doing it this way?”

Some of the panic clears as Magnus realizes what Raphael is getting at, and it makes way for rage. “Camille.”

Raphael nods. “She’s going to use this opportunity to strong-arm you into giving her the Institute and marrying her sadistic ass. Rouse knows damned well that Alec doesn’t deserve a death sentence – doesn’t deserve any damned sentence. She just doesn’t care. They’ve set this all up, right? So if you give Camille what she wants, Rouse will ‘suddenly’ realize she’s overstepped and reduce his sentence to a hundred years in prison or something – something that will keep him away from you until long after you’re in the ground. And you’ll end up so far under Camille’s thumb that you’ll never get free of her.”

“So what do we do?” Magnus asks.

“The one benefit to the way she’s set this up is that she’s going to have all the Clave bigwigs here to witness the union,” Raphael says, “so we’re going to yank her pants down in front of them. Sometime in the next hour – soon, before you’ve had a chance to calm down and think things through – she’s gonna come to you with her ultimatum. We’re gonna get her on tape.”

“She realized I was recording her last night,” Magnus says. “She’ll make sure I’m not again.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s why I’m going to put _my_ phone in your pocket. When she sees yours isn’t recording, or throws the damned thing out the window, you’ll still have an ear on you. Okay?” Raphael takes Magnus by the upper arms and squeezes reassuringly. “Get her to spell it out for you, and then I’m gonna make one hell of a mixtape to play at your wedding. Got it?”

Magnus nods, and even manages a small smile. “Got it.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Magnus manages to wait all of an hour before he goes to find Camille. She’s in the kitchen, sitting on one of the counters, and she smiles when he comes in. “We need to talk,” he says, and her smile widens. He turns and walks away, knowing she’ll follow. The thought of being in his room makes him shudder, so he goes into the training room. It’s the middle of the night. Nobody is there.

He knows that in order for this to work, he can’t make demands. He needs Camille to think of him as the victim, think that he’s afraid and out of options. “Camille,” he says, letting his voice wobble, “please don’t do this. You can’t have Alec executed.”

“Magnus, sweetheart,” Camille says, her eyes wide with fake hurt. “I’m not the one who decided Alec’s sentence.”

“You and I both know that he didn’t violate the Accords. He was defending me.”

“I know of no such thing. By the way, you’re not recording this, are you? I’d hate to have another misunderstanding.”

“Is that what you call drugging me and trying to force yourself on me? A misunderstanding?” Magnus’ lip curls despite himself, and he takes his phone out of his pocket and tosses it to her. “See for yourself. Turn it off, throw it out the window if you’d like.”

Camille does turn it off, and then sets it aside. “This is your fault, you know. We could have just done this my way from the beginning. I offered you something most men would kill for. Your own Institute, me as your bride. If you hadn’t turned me down so you could sleep with Downworlder trash, you wouldn’t be in this position right now.”

Magnus takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “Look, Camille. It’s hellishly late. I haven’t slept and I’m still shaking off the effects of whatever the hell you laced my wine with. I don’t have the wherewithal to play games with you right now. You want to make a deal, then let’s make it.”

“Fine,” Camille says. “You belong to me. You seem to have had trouble getting that through your thick head, so why don’t you say it out loud, try it on for size.”

Another deep breath. “I belong to you.”

“Thank you!” Camille smiles broadly. “Then let’s make it official, shall we? We tie the knot, I become Head of the Institute, and you’re my right-hand man.”

“That’s a little different from the first time we talked about this.”

“You mean when I offered to make _you_ the Head of the Institute, if you’d play ball? That was a one-time only offer, sweetling. You lost the chance for that. I will be Head of the Institute.”

“And you’ll let Alec go?”

“Certainly not!” Camille laughs merrily. “I’ll talk to the Inquisitor and his sentence will be commuted to imprisonment, that’s all. One or two centuries – long enough to keep him far away from you, just in case you get any ideas about going back to him.”

“I wouldn’t,” Magnus says. “Honestly, if I married you, I wouldn’t. I might not be a part of this willingly, but I keep my word. Marriage vows are serious, and I would uphold them.”

“You’re such a romantic,” Camille says, and sighs. “But I’m not going to change my mind. Alec stays in prison.”

“You know he didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t even seriously injured. He could have put you through the wall, but he didn’t. He just threw you off me.”

“Listen to me, Magnus,” Camille says, and her voice has gone cold. “You are in no position to negotiate. The fact that Alec did nothing wrong is irrelevant. We could have sat down and had a nice chat about this back when I first made the offer, but you passed on that. Now we’re going to do things my way, so let me tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to marry me, and I’m going to have the Institute I deserve. Alec’s sentence will be commuted to prison, and you will like it. Is all of that perfectly clear?”

“Yes,” Magnus says, allowing himself to sound defeated.

Camille’s smile instantly returns. “Good!” She reaches out and pats him on the cheek. “I’ve even chosen our outfits already. See you at four PM sharp.”

“Wait,” Magnus says, as she turns to flounce away. “I want to talk to the Inquisitor and get Alec’s sentence commuted.”

“Sweetheart,” Camille says, laughing, “you’re getting ahead of yourself. You haven’t married me yet.”

“No, I haven’t,” Magnus agrees. “But I give you my word that I will, if you do as I’ve asked and spare Alec’s life. My word means something. Yours doesn’t. You’re nothing but a liar through-and-through, Camille. We both know it. If I marry you, and you suddenly change your mind about doing this, there won’t be anything I can do. So Alec’s life first, or you get nothing from me.”

Camille sulks. “You can be really unkind sometimes, you know that?”

Magnus says nothing.

“Fine, let’s go find the Inquisitor,” Camille says, with a put-upon sigh. She walks out of the training room and back into the main part of the Institute. Magnus is unsurprised to see she knows exactly where to find Rouse, who was probably waiting around for just this occurrence. He’s intensely glad of Raphael’s phone, still recording in his pocket. “Inquisitor,” Camille says sweetly, “Magnus and I have been discussing what happened, and I’m a little concerned. I don’t think an attempted murder charge is really appropriate. Lightwood probably didn’t intend to actually kill me, even though this in no way pardons his vicious attack.”

Magnus holds his tongue with great effort. Rouse responds somewhat indifferently, sounding scripted. “Very well, Miss Belcourt. What do you feel would be appropriate?”

“Since he _believed_ he was defending Magnus, perhaps imprisonment would be more just,” Camille says.

“Fine,” Rouse says. “A century of imprisonment. That should be enough penance for his crimes.”

Camille turns to Magnus. “Satisfied?”

“It’ll do.”

“Excellent. Why don’t you go get a few hours of sleep? I’d hate for you to have bags under your eyes in the wedding photographs.” Camille turns and walks away without another word.

Magnus swallows down his rage and leaves in the other direction. As soon as he’s away from the Inquisitor, he stops and just lets himself breathe for a few minutes, before he goes and finds Raphael. He hands over the phone, and Raphael replays the conversation as they both listen. “Perfect,” he finally says. “I’ve got everything I need to nail her to the wall.”

“All right.” Magnus pushes a hand through his hair. “What now?”

Raphael glances at him, then starts texting. “Now, nothing. Camille was right about one thing, probably the only thing – you need to get some sleep. You look like shit.”

“I can’t,” Magnus says. “I’ll never manage to sleep with Alec in prison.”

“Yes, you will. It’s nearly dawn. I need some time to put this footage together and arrange for the damned sound system. I don’t need you for that.” Raphael looks up again as a portal opens a few feet away and Izzy steps through. Magnus stares at her in horror, trying desperately to figure out how to explain everything that’s happened. Much to his relief, Raphael gestures to her and says, “I’ve kept her up to date. Izzy, will you take Magnus back to your place to get some rest? Wedding is on for four. If anything changes, I’ll call you.”

Izzy nods. “Yeah, of course. Come on, Magnus.”

“I really don’t think . . .” Magnus says, but his protests are unheeded. Izzy pulls him through the portal and he finds himself back in Alec’s loft. Tears immediately sting at his eyes. “God, Izzy, I am so sorry.”

The portal snaps closed and Izzy rounds on him. “No,” she says, her tone a little sharp. He blinks at her, bewildered. “You are not sorry because this is not your fault. None of this is your fault, Magnus.”

The tears spill over despite his best efforts to control them. “I couldn’t stop her.”

“That tends to happen when you get drugged, yeah.” Izzy takes Magnus’ chin in her hands and meets his gaze. “Listen to me, Magnus. Nothing that’s happened in the past twelve hours was your fault. Hell, nothing that’s happened in the past six weeks was your fault.”

“But I – ”

“There will be no buts, Magnus,” Izzy says firmly. “My brother loves you. We _both_ love you. So believe me when I say that nothing Camille has done is your fault. None of it makes either of us love you one iota less. Understand?”

Magnus feels some of the tension leave his body and a few more tears trickle down his cheeks. He wants to say something just as meaningful and amazing as Izzy had, but what comes out is just a choked, “All right.”

Izzy smiles, then leans in and kisses him on the forehead. “Okay. I’m going to make you some herbal tea. You’re going to go take a hot shower. Then you’re going to get some sleep.”

“All right,” Magnus says again. He heads for the shower. It’s a relief to strip out of his clothes, to be honest, and scrub all the places where Camille had touched him. He manages not to scrub himself raw, but it takes real effort. By the time he gets out of the shower, and exits into Alec’s room with a towel wrapped around his waist, Izzy has put the mug of tea on the night table.

“Do you want pajamas?” Izzy asks.

“Please,” Magnus says.

She goes diving into Alec’s drawers and finds a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt which she hands over, then studiously looks the other way while Magnus pulls them on. “I’ll be in the kitchen, so if you need anything, just – ”

“No,” Magnus says, without meaning to. He lets out a shaky breath. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, if you want me to.”

Magnus nods and sits down on the edge of the bed, fighting for control over his emotions. “I can still feel her hands on me. Smell her perfume. I just – don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course,” Izzy says again, softer. She draws down the covers with a flick of her magic. Magnus lies down, and a few moments feels the bed shift as Izzy lies down next to him. The light goes out a few seconds later. “Get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	12. Chapter 12

Alec glances up as he hears the door at the end of the hallway open. He’d like to pretend that he’s totally unaffected by his situation. He’s putting on a pretty good show, he thinks. A year ago, he probably wouldn’t have been that bothered. It seems that it’s just his luck that when he’s finally found someone worth living for, now is when he’s being sentenced to death.

He doubts that it’s going to happen. There are clearly a lot of factors at play here, but if the Inquisitor and the Clave had truly wanted him dead, they would have executed him immediately. No, this is Camille’s doing, which means that she’s going to use his life as a bargaining chip. That pisses him off more than anything else. He’s glad that he can be sure that Magnus would never agree to give her what she wants.

That’s what he’s thinking when he sees Camille saunter down the hallway and stop in front of the door to his cell. “Enjoying your stay?” she asks, smiling at him.

Alec shrugs, telling himself firmly not to engage with her. She’s just taunting him, and he’s not going to give her the satisfaction. “I’ve been in worse places.”

“I’d hate to find out that you were uncomfortable. Especially since it seems like you might be here for a while.”

Alec promptly fails at not engaging, given her a sideways glance. “I thought I was being executed tomorrow.”

Camille’s smile broadens. “Oh, has nobody told you? Your sentence has been commuted. One hundred years in prison.”

There’s a long pause while Alec considers this, hoping that it doesn’t mean what he thinks it means. “Why?”

“I thought you were too handsome to kill.”

“Uh huh.” Alec looks over at her through the bars on the door. “If the Inquisitor has decided that execution is not an appropriate punishment, it’s almost like she found out you were lying about everything that happened in Magnus’ rooms. Like the part where you said I ‘violently attacked’ you, when all I did was toss you off the bed.”

“Who knows why the Inquisitor decides things the way she does?” Camille says, twining a strand of her hair around her fingers.

Alec shakes his head. “You sure as hell didn’t come down here to tell me this because you wanted to make me feel better. So whatever it is you came down here to gloat about, you might as well get started.”

Camille pouts. “You take the fun out of everything. No wonder Magnus likes you so much. Not that it matters,” she adds, giving her hair a toss, “since he’s marrying me in the afternoon.”

Alec’s stomach gives a twist, but he does his best to ignore it. “I find that pretty unlikely.”

“He agreed. And he’s a man of his word, unlike some others I could name.”

“I’m pretty confident that Magnus knows I would literally rather die than see him forced to spend the rest of his life with someone who makes him unhappy.”

“Apparently not.” Camille blows him a kiss. “I’ll make sure someone sends you the wedding pictures. Ta ta, darling.”

Alec keeps his face neutral until she’s turned away, and then he can’t help but scowl. He paces up and down the length of his cell. He had realized quickly that Camille’s intention was to use his life as leverage, but to think that Magnus had actually _agreed_ – that Magnus would put himself through something like this –

And now he’ll be in prison for a century. Until years past the day Magnus is gone from the earth. The thought makes his stomach churn with nausea. He would have rather been executed a dozen times over.

He feels like there must be something he can do, but his mind is coming up completely blank. He has no influence over the Clave. Izzy and Jace are still on the outside, but even if they did try to mount a rescue – which he hopes they won’t – it would be doomed to fail.

He’s still racking his brain when the door opens again and he sees Raphael walk into the hallway. “Hey!” Alec pushes himself up against the bars. “Tell me Magnus didn’t agree to marry Camille so she wouldn’t – ”

Raphael raises a hand to slow Alec’s tide of words, then tilts his head slightly towards the two Shadowhunters who are on guard. “Just keep your head, okay?” he says.

“Easy for you to say,” Alec retorts.

“We’re working on a solution, okay? You’re not going to be executed.”

“I know that,” Alec says through gritted teeth. “Camille came down here to taunt me about having had my sentence commuted.”

“Sounds like her,” Raphael says. “So we’ve got some time to work everything out, right?”

Alec opens his mouth to say something, but then Raphael rolls his eyes and gives the guard another pointed look. Alec forces himself to take a deep breath. Clearly, Raphael has some sort of plan, and just as clearly, he’s not going to explain it. “Yeah,” Alec finally says. “Yeah, thanks, Raphael. For, uh, coming down here to tell me. How’s Magnus, is he okay?”

“I sent him back to your place to get some sleep,” Raphael says. “Izzy came and picked him up.”

Alec feels some of the tension ease, knowing that Magnus is in a safe place, with someone who will take care of him. “Okay.”

“You should try to get some, too,” Raphael says. “I’ll keep you posted once I’ve got more detail about the appeal process and everything.”

“Thanks,” Alec says again. He sits back down on the wooden bench as Raphael walks away. It’s hard to keep from pacing again, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s just going to have to trust that Raphael knows what he’s doing.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Magnus wakes up when the sun hits the window and starts streaming directly into his optic nerve. He moans and rolls over, then remembers where he is and freezes. He sits up slowly, looking around to confirm that the events of the previous night weren’t a terrible dream.

Izzy is still in bed, although she’s sitting up and texting on her phone. She looks over when Magnus sits up. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Magnus takes stock. His headache is gone, and his stomach has settled. In fact, he’s hungry. “A lot better. How long did I sleep?”

“About six hours. It’s just after eleven AM. They won’t need you back at the Institute for a while, and Raphael wants you to lay low until the wedding. Not give Camille a chance to add any surprises.”

“Okay. Has – has anyone seen Alec? Told him what’s going on, that he doesn’t have to worry?”

“Raphael texted me to say that he had gone down to see him, but there were some of Camille’s lackeys guarding his cell, so they couldn’t talk. He just told Alec they were ‘working on a solution’. Alec said that Camille had already come by to tell him all about how his sentence had been commuted to imprisonment and what you’d had to do to get that concession from her.”

“Oh, God.” Magnus pushes a hand through his hair.

“It’s fine, Magnus. Alec’s no fool, you know. He knows that we’re not going to let him rot in a prison cell. And if we can’t stop this bullshit wedding and you have to marry her, well, gee. I guess we’ll just have to kill her.”

Magnus laughs despite himself. “A solution she probably is not anticipating.”

“And yet . . .” Izzy reaches out and squeezes his hand. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”

“Okay.” Magnus climbs out of bed and follows Izzy into the other room. She makes them both some scrambled eggs and toast, and he eats automatically, without tasting it.

Almost an hour later, he’s back at the Institute. Viktor is there, smirking at him insufferably and informing him that he’s got a few things for Magnus. Magnus puts on as defeated an air as possible and follows Viktor into a room where there’s a suit waiting for him. It’s a suit with a white jacket and a black bow tie, and he’s going to look horrible in it. He generally thinks he can pull off just about anything, but there are limits.

“I suppose she was afraid that I would wear all black?” he asks Viktor, who shrugs. When the other Shadowhunter doesn’t appear to be leaving any time soon, he says, “A little bit of privacy, perhaps?”

“Why?” Viktor asks bluntly. “Camille has showed me some truly astonishing pictures of the two of you naked.”

Magnus forces himself not to think too hard about the fact that Camille still has some of the photographs he was stupid enough to let her take when he was nineteen. Instead, he strips out of the pajamas he had borrowed and starts to dress. “I take it that you’re my appointed bodyguard?”

Viktor shrugs. “Camille doesn’t trust you not to get cold feet, now that you’ve gotten what you wanted.”

“Like she couldn’t arrange an ‘accident’ in Alec’s cell, if I took off,” Magnus says.

“True,” Viktor says, and laughs.

Magnus pulls on the pants and the white T-shirt, but leaves the rest of the outfit off until he’s had a chance to do his makeup. Camille be damned; he is going to look good for this. He carefully applies eyeliner and mascara and some of his favorite sparkly eyeshadow. Then he sits down and pulls out a bottle of blood red nail polish. Viktor makes a disgusted noise, and Magnus glances over at him. “Are we in a rush I don’t know about?”

“No. I just think your sense of style is revolting.”

“Then just be glad that you’re not the person I’m marrying.” Magnus begins to apply the nail polish with the precision borne of long practice. He finds that the routine is calming him down. There are still butterflies in his stomach, but they’re manageable. He waits for the nail polish to dry while Viktor glowers at him, and then puts the rest of the clothes on. “Well, am I presentable?”

Viktor shrugs. “I’ll let Camille decide,” he says, and snaps a photograph with his phone. Magnus rolls his eyes, but waits. A few moments later, Viktor says, “The state of her emoji use suggests yes.”

Magnus doesn’t ask which of the emojis she’s using. “Let’s get this show on the road, then. I do hope that Camille has arranged everything properly. The reception had better have a lot of wine at it if she wants me to stick around.”

“Don’t you worry,” Viktor says. “It’s all been put together. All of the Clave elite will be here to witness this, so you can’t squirm out of it later.”

It takes effort for Magnus not to smile. He leaves the little room and heads for the chapel. Raphael is waiting for him there, dressed in all black. “I hope Camille has approved your outfit,” Magnus tells him.

“Would you believe she actually did?” Raphael says. “Came to see what I was wearing and everything. She said I look good in basic black.”

“That you do,” Magnus says. He glances around at the people filing into the chapel. “How many of these people do you think realize how Camille arranged this wedding?”

“Probably about a quarter of them,” Raphael says, and shrugs. “They’re not all as oblivious as they seem. Though a fair chunk of them probably don’t care.”

“I’m surprised Camille got everyone here on such short notice.”

“She didn’t,” Raphael says, surprising Magnus. “She arranged it days ago. Some of the Clave got their invitations almost a week ago. She put all this together ahead of time. That’s why she texted Alec. She knew he’d show up, knew he’d react violently, and that she could use that to her advantage. Probably set it all up with Rouse.”

Magnus’ jaw clenches, but he says nothing, thinking instead of the surprise that Camille is going to get in about fifteen minutes. “Raphael . . . this is going to work, right?”

“We’ll find out,” Raphael says, and with that extremely reassuring comment, he heads into the chapel.

Magnus sighs and follows him. He greets some of the Clave aristocracy, tries to get a measure of who’s on Camille’s side and who isn’t. A lot of them seem quite surprised at their union, and a few of them are genuinely congratulatory. He’s not surprised. To marry into the aristocracy is the dream of many a Shadowhunter.

Several seem to realize that the match is political more than affectionate, and a fair number of them still sneer in his general direction. Catarina Loss and Dorothea Rollins come in together, and greet him with a reassuring smile. Magnus doesn’t know if they know exactly what’s going to happen, but it’s fairly obvious that they aren’t expecting that this will end in a marriage. Eventually, everyone finds a seat. The music starts and Camille enters. She looks stunning, in a strapless dress with a mermaid skirt, perfectly selected jewelry and beautifully coiffed hair. There’s a murmur of admiration from the audience. Camille steps up to the altar and smiles at Magnus. He grips his stele harder, dreading the moment where he’s going to have to draw the marriage rune on her and nobody intervenes.

That moment never comes. He's barely reached for the bracelet when Camille’s voice suddenly blares out of speakers that Magnus hadn’t even noticed. “Listen to me, Magnus. You are in no position to negotiate. The fact that Alec did nothing wrong is irrelevant. We could have sat down and had a nice chat about this back when I first made the offer, but you passed on that. Now we’re going to do things my way, so let me tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to marry me, and I’m going to have the Institute I deserve. Alec’s sentence will be commuted to prison, and you will like it. Is all of that perfectly clear?”

“What the – ” Camille blurts out after the first word, and then she focuses on Raphael, the phone in his hand, and his innocent yet satisfied smile. “Oh, you son of a bitch – ”

“What’s going on?” several people clamor, trying to discover the source of the voice. There’s so much noise that the impact of what Camille is saying in the recording doesn’t even seem to sink in for a lot of them. Magnus stands quietly during this, because he’s fairly sure that Raphael has a plan.

As soon as the recording of Camille’s voice has ended, her father, Philip Belcourt, stands up and demands, “What was _that_?”

“Mr. Belcourt, that was a recording of your daughter coercing Magnus into this marriage,” Raphael says, his tone completely polite and respectful. “Unfortunately, her conduct as envoy has been completely unprofessional, and since complaints filed with the Clave led to no results, I decided we would need a wider panel of opinions on this matter. Since Camille thoughtfully invited you all, this seemed as good a time as any.”

“You little rat,” Camille hisses under her breath. “I will destroy you, do you understand me?”

“Let me back up,” Raphael adds, “to a few days after she arrived here.” He taps his phone several times and her voice rings out in the chapel again.

“Let’s get something clear, Raphael, darling. Your performance means nothing to me. I’m only here because of Magnus. He had the gall to think he could break up with me and not pay for it. And now I hold his fate in my hand! The irony is delicious, isn’t it?”

The recording stops. Magnus looks at Camille and says, “That’s not what irony is.”

Raphael muffles a laugh with a cough. Camille is clearly seething, and she turns to their audience and says, “I will not stand here while I am accused of such things! They, they have doctored these recordings to make me look awful!” She lets out a fake sob and says, “None of you could possibly believe such things of me!”

Raphael taps his phone, and Camille’s recorded voice says, “Go ahead, tell the Clave. I’ve got them all eating out of the palm of my hand. I’ll just cry a few crocodile tears and tell them I can’t _believe_ they would think I was capable of such a thing.”

Camille goes white, and says, “You son of a bitch.”

Inquisitor Rouse stands up and says, “What exactly are you trying to do, Mr. Santiago? If Camille’s conduct was unprofessional, there are channels you need to go through. This grandstanding is unbecoming of a Nephilim.”

“Well, again I could point out that when I tried to go through the appropriate channels, I was ignored,” Raphael says, “but sure, let’s talk about why we’re here. I seem to remember it has something to do with you sentencing Alec Lightwood to execution even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“That warlock attacked Miss Belcourt – ”

Raphael taps his phone and the first recording plays again. “Listen to me, Magnus. You are in no position to negotiate. The fact that Alec did nothing wrong is irrelevant.”

Inquisitor Rouse purses her mouth like she bit down on a lemon. Raphael says, “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Can someone _please_ tell us what is going on?” someone shouts from the back, sounding exasperated.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Magnus says.

“Magnus,” Camille snaps, “don’t you dare – ”

“What’s going on is that Camille is determined to have me as her husband whether I want to be or not. So she drugged me and assaulted me, and when my boyfriend came to my defense, she accused him of attacking her without provocation. Our dear Inquisitor Rouse, who received God knows what in compensation, agreed to sentence him to execution, but strangely enough, as soon as I agreed to marry Camille, she suddenly decided that was an overreaction and commuted his sentence to imprisonment. However, as I still have no interest in marrying Camille and would really like my boyfriend not to serve a century in prison for trying to protect me, Raphael and I decided we would simply have to explain to the Clave who and what Camille truly is.”

“My sentencing of Alexander Lightwood was just!” Rouse protests. “He violently attacked a Shadowhunter with no evidence that she was doing anything wrong – ”

Raphael cuts her off. “Inquisitor Rouse, if you believed your sentencing to be just, why did you change it as soon as Magnus agreed to marry Camille?”

“I don’t have to answer any questions from the likes of you!”

“How about the likes of me?” Catarina Loss stands up from her place in the audience. “I think Raphael’s question is a fair one. If you truly believed that Lightwood deserved to be sentenced to death, why was his sentence commuted?”

Rouse gathers her composure. “Camille came to me and explained the situation, and I saw that execution was too harsh, but given the initial evidence – ”

Raphael sighs and taps his phone again. Rouse’s voice says, “This seems to be a lot of trouble to go through just to get a man, Camille. Particularly one who doesn’t want you.”

“That’s exactly why I want him,” Camille responds in the recording. “Just wait until we’ve made the agreement. He’ll probably insist on you commuting the sentence before the wedding, but don’t talk to him until I’ve come to you with the ‘new evidence’.”

The color drains out of Rouse’s face. “How – how did you even – ”

“Mundanes,” Raphael says. “They don’t have a lot going for them, but their use of technology to make up for their lack of magic is really pretty impressive. They’ve got all types of listening devices these days. I just dropped one in your pocket while you were distracted with Magnus pitching a fit over you threatening to execute his boyfriend.”

“He attacked a Shadowhunter!” Rouse protests for what seems like the millionth time.

Magnus loses his temper. “Enough! I’m done here. If you do not release Alec Lightwood from prison immediately, I will take this to the Warlock Council. I will explain to them that the Clave has violated the Accords by imprisoning and threatening to execute an innocent man. I don’t think that will end well for you.”

“Are you threatening the Clave?” Philip Belcourt thunders. “How dare you?”

“I will do worse than threaten the Clave,” Magnus retorts. “I will tear apart Idris brick by brick before I see Alexander spend another day in prison because of what Camille has done.”

Catarina clears her throat. “Is Lightwood in the dungeons here, or has he been moved to Idris?”

Rouse shoots her a hateful look and then says, “He’s still here.”

“Then I suggest you give Raphael the keys so he can go get him.”

“Camille has them. She’s the Head of the Institute, after all.”

“She’s going to be Head of the Janitors when I’m done with her,” Magnus snaps, and holds his hand out. “Keys. Now. I know you have them on you; you wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with them.”

Camille looks pissed as hell, but she reaches down into her dress and pulls out the keys, then throws them at him. He catches them despite the force of her throw, then tosses them to Raphael, who smiles and thanks her before departing from the room. “Is this satisfactory, Mr. Bane?” Catarina asks.

“I’ll tell you in two minutes, once I’ve seen him and made sure that he is unharmed,” Magnus says. “In the meantime, I would like to notify the Clave that I _will_ be bringing charges against Camille and they _will_ be processed through the appropriate channels. Because otherwise you’ll just shuffle her to some other Institute, where she can do to someone else what she did to me. She is going to have a trial. I’m going to put my hands on the Soul Sword and explain to you what she’s done, and then she will face justice accordingly. Is that clear?”

“Both completely clear and completely fine,” Dorothea Rollins says. She sounds somewhat amused. “Justice must be served, after all.”

Philip Belcourt turns on her and snaps, “You would put my daughter on trial due to the word of this, this low-born – ”

“Aristocracy is not a golden ticket away from consequences, Mr. Belcourt,” Catarina says, “and I think it’s high time both you and your daughter learned that.”

Camille throws her bouquet in Magnus’ face. “I’m not done with you,” she hisses. “Just wait.” With that, she turns on her heels and stomps out of the chapel. Several of the other Clave members follow her, muttering about miscarriages of justice. Magnus doesn’t care in the slightest, because the side door has opened and Raphael has come in with Alec behind him. He’s still in the same clothes as the day before, but he looks fine. Magnus throws his arms around Alec’s shoulders and hugs him as tightly as he can. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Alec says. “Just some bruises on my wrists from the shackles, that’s all. Plus I’m so hungry that I could eat a horse.”

Magnus insists on examining the injuries, but they don’t look too bad. “Thank God.”

“Mostly thank Raphael, I think,” Alec says, laughing quietly, and he pulls Magnus against his shoulder. “I wasn’t worried. I knew you’d get me out.”

Magnus nods and manages to take a deep breath for the first time in what feels like days. After several moments, he pulls away, although he takes Alec’s hand in his. “A few more things,” he says, and a few of the Clave members still present start to mutter. “If you would like to assign us a new envoy, I would completely understand, and we will comply fully with their audit. That being said, I think that all of you know it’s unnecessary, and the only reason one was sent here is because certain people were upset about our success rate.”

“I suppose you expect us to just hand you the Institute,” someone in the back sneers.

“This Institute is not mine,” Magnus says coldly. “I never said it was. It is Ragnor Fell’s. And it is my opinion that he should be returned to his post without delay.”

Catarina’s lips quirk in a smile. “I think that can be arranged.”

“You’ll be hearing from me about the specifics of the charges against Camille. Until then, ladies and gentlemen of the Clave, I’m taking my boyfriend out to dinner.” He turns and leaves the room, with Alec and Raphael on his heels.

It turns out that Raphael had texted Izzy as soon as he had left the room to get Alec out of his cell, and she and Jace have gotten them a table at their favorite Chinese restaurant. They’ve already ordered enough appetizers to feed an army, Raphael reports. Magnus takes off the suit jacket and tie and leaves them in a heap on the floor, so he doesn’t have to waste time going to change. A plain white button-down and black pants might not be his style, but he can survive it for one dinner out.

Izzy greets them by trying to hug everyone at once, and Jace slaps Alec on the back and says he’s glad The Man didn’t get him down. Alec says all he wants right now is beef teriyaki, and promptly begins demolishing a plate of it. Magnus’ appetite returns as soon as he smells the food; he eats an entire spring roll in three bites and washes it down with a cup of tea.

Raphael is regaling the others with the story of how things had gone down in the chapel, and Izzy and Jace enjoy it immensely. But he declines to order an entrée for himself. “I’ve got to return the sound stuff I borrowed to Simon.”

“Simon?” Magnus blinks at him. “Who’s Simon?”

“A friend of Clary’s. I met him in LA. He’s a vampire.”

“Okay, but . . . you just happened to know you could borrow a sound system from him?” Magnus asks.

“He has a band. They’re not that great. He’s not bad, though.” Raphael sees the way they’re all staring at him. “What?”

“Raphael, did you . . . did you make a friend?” Magnus asks.

“What? No,” Raphael replies immediately. “He’s just a guy that I met a couple times.”

“Who invited you to Los Angeles to see his band play,” Jace says, nodding sagely as if non-friends do this sort of thing all the time, “and you actually went.”

“I like music, okay? Is that a crime now?”

“Oh my God,” Magnus says, barely able to contain his glee. “You _like_ him.”

“You know what, Magnus, I don’t have to take this bullshit from you,” Raphael says. “I saved your ass today, so shut your cock holster.”

Alec spills his glass of water all over himself. Magnus laughs so hard that his sides hurt.

Raphael departs, smugly, but the rest of them stay another hour, eating and drinking and generally having a good time. Magnus stops after his second cocktail, though, because he wants to remain lucid. He doesn’t think he could handle any sort of intoxication right now. Alec seems to notice, because he stops after his third.

When they get back to the loft, Izzy and Jace having departed for their own homes, Alec shuts the door behind them and pulls him into a kiss. It goes on for several minutes, a mix of gentle and passionate that he’s never really felt before. Alec slides his hands down Magnus’ back, but stops before sliding them underneath Magnus’ shirt. “I’d understand if you didn’t want to right now.”

“I do want to,” Magnus says. “I want it more than anything.”

“Okay. Just . . . if you want to stop, just let me know, okay?”

Magnus nods and leans in for another kiss, and makes it a good one.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super short and I'm super sorry but I wanted to let you guys know I hadn't forgotten about you! I am still working on this fic; I just had a bunch of real life stuff all happen at once. I will keep putting out chapters when I can. ^_^

Magnus wakes up feeling warm and comfortable and overall extremely good. He rolls over to see Alec still sleeping, and leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Alec stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake. Magnus nestles closer, taking a few deep breaths and relaxing. He doesn’t mean to fall back to sleep, but realizes somewhat later that the sun has slanted further across the walls, and Alec is yawning and rubbing his back idly.

“Good morning,” Magnus says, and kisses the corner of Alec’s mouth.

“Oh, hey,” Alec says, smiling sleepily. “Morning. How are you feeling?” He yawns again. “I know you’ve had a rough week.”

“I’m feeling much better now,” Magnus says. “I’m looking forward to spending the entire day in bed with you.”

Alec laughs. “We might need to eat at some point.”

“We can eat in bed.”

“True.” Alec rolls onto his side and goes in for a kiss.

When he pulls away, Magnus says, “I know I shouldn’t say I’m sorry for what happened – Izzy drilled that into me. But I want you to know I have never been so afraid in my life. I’ve never felt fear like that before, ever.” He reaches up and caresses Alec’s cheek, meets his gaze. “I love you.”

Alec’s eyes widen like he’s actually startled to hear this, but then the surprised expression melts into a smile. “I love you, too.”

“Are you – all right with that?”

“Yeah.” Alec brushes Magnus’ hair out of his face. “I don’t know whether or not I’m really cursed, but I know you can take care of yourself. And even though I don’t really believe in that ‘better to have loved and lost’ stuff, I wouldn’t give this up. You’re it for me.” He kisses Magnus on the forehead. “I’ll find a way to split my life with you. I’ve read about spells like that – warlocks who have found mortal lovers have done it before. I don’t want to ever be without you.”

“You never will be,” Magnus murmurs against his mouth.

Alec returns the kiss, but then pulls away. He’s frowning slightly, and Magnus is about to ask what’s wrong before he says, “The Book of the White.”

“The book of the what?” Magnus asks.

“That spell – the one on your mother. That’s where I’ve seen it before, the Book of the White.” Alec is already halfway out of bed, grabbing his phone. He’s speaking into it before Magnus has processed everything that’s happening. “Izzy, we don’t have The Book of the White, do we? . . . do you remember who does? I know I’ve read it, but it was . . . oh, yeah. That would make sense. Can you text me her number? . . . okay, thanks, Iz. Gotta go.” He waits impatiently for the text as Magnus is getting out of bed, and then he’s speaking again. “Hey, Lydia, it’s Alec. You know, Lightwood. I was looking for the Book of the White . . . yeah. No, it’s a long story, I’ll tell you over coffee . . . what do you want? . . . okay, well, I’ve got volume seven of Cleo’s treatises, isn’t that the one you needed to complete your set? . . . square deal. I’ll meet you in an hour.”

“Who’s Lydia?” Magnus asks, as Alec hangs up.

“Oh, uh, she’s another warlock. Obviously,” Alec says. “One of the few with a library as big as mine and Izzy’s. We met back when we were looking for Jace – she had some stuff in her library that we needed. She actually stayed with us for a while afterwards. A lot of people over the years assumed we were a couple just because we’re both, uh . . . anti-social.”

Magnus gives a little snort. “How far away is she?”

“We can’t go to her place. She lives on an island in Alaska where nobody can bother her,” Alec says. “And it’s heavily warded so people can’t portal in and steal her books. But she said she’d meet us in Seattle.”

“In an hour?” Magnus asks, tracing his fingers over Alec’s collarbone.

“Yeah, uh, yes.” Alec’s eyes glaze over. “I thought you might want to, uh, have some time to get ready. You know. Take a shower?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Magnus says, and drags Alec into the bathroom.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Lydia is so astonished to find out that Alec is dating someone that she spends most of their time together looking at him funny. Alec, already deep in the magical textbook, doesn’t notice. This amuses Magnus tremendously, and he tells Lydia the story of how he and Alec met over tea and croissants.

When he finally emerges from the book, Alec describes Mei’s state to Lydia, and they pore over the spell together for several long minutes before deciding that it will work. Lydia asks if they need help, Alec says no, and they part on friendly terms.

“Are you sure you won’t need any help?” Magnus asks, anxious despite himself.

“The spell will be the easy part,” Alec says. “Getting her out of Asmodeus’ clutches, that’s going to be a lot more difficult. He’s undoubtedly got guards there, and odds are good he’s moved her.”

“But you can find her again,” Magnus says.

“Yeah. The question is how close we’ll be able to get. But, one thing at a time.” Alec brings Magnus into his workshop and spreads a map of Indonesia on the floor. “He’ll probably stick to his home territory, where he’s comfortable, so let’s start there.” He takes out his knife and pricks Magnus’ finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto the map.

This time, it immediately splits in two. One drop heads to Java, and the other tracks further north, to Kalimantan. “Is there any way to tell which one is my mother?” Magnus asks.

“It’s this one,” Alec says, gesturing to the northern point.

“How can you tell?”

“Because the drop of blood didn’t actually move onto the island. It’s stopped a couple millimeters short. I doubt your mother is in the ocean, which means that the blood can’t get any closer to her actual location. Which is probably because Asmodeus had paid or extorted a warlock into making the area a dead zone. Putting up barriers that magic can’t get through, at least, not from a distance.”

Magnus nods, understanding. “So we can’t portal in. Will your magic work once you’re past the barrier?”

“No. And if we break them – ”

“He’ll know we’re coming.” Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose. “So we won’t be able to portal _out_ , either.”

Alec shrugs. “Personally, I think it would be a better plan to break them anyway. We don’t know what kind of surveillance he has set up. He might have something mundane, technological, as well as magical. He might have had another permanent portal set up so he can get back to her as soon as he detects an intrusion. And depending on how big a dead zone he’s made, we’ll need magic just to find her. He could have the entire island shielded and have a complex in the middle of the jungle. But,” he adds with a smile, “you probably know more about rescue missions than I do.”

“Maybe,” Magnus says. “I think we should get as far as we can without magic and see where it takes us. If we need to break the barriers, we will, but let’s do our best not to have to.”

“Okay. I’ll call Izzy and Jace.”

“And I’ll call Raphael.”

“If he’s back from Los Angeles,” Alec says.

Magnus chuckles. “I hope to God he ends up dating this guy. It’s going to be _endless_ hours of fun.”

About an hour later, they’ve all assembled and gotten together what they need. Alec portals them back to Jakarta, and find a ferry to take them to Kalimantan. All of the warlocks shudder a little when they go through the invisible barrier, and the tracking spell that Alec was using suddenly goes dead. They find themselves standing in the middle of the port town, and Jace says, “So if we can’t use magic, how are we supposed to find her?”

“The traditional way: look,” Raphael says, rolling his eyes.

Magnus nods. “While Asmodeus was grandstanding last time, I took a picture of her – and of him, as well. If he’s been around here, the locals might recognize him.”

“I don’t speak the language,” Raphael says, “so . . .”

“You can go around with me and Jace,” Izzy says, looping her arm through his, “and tell us all about how your date with Simon went last night.”

“It wasn’t a . . . why do I bother,” Raphael mutters, and turns and walks away.

Magnus shakes his head a little and follows Alec down the street. It doesn’t take a lot of time to establish that Asmodeus is quite the presence in the small town. He owns several of the small shops, a gambling parlor, and a restaurant. He doesn’t exactly seem popular, but nobody wants to talk much about him. They’re clearly afraid that something might get back to him. Magnus charms his way into the back of the places he owns, but there’s nothing unusual there, and certainly no Mei.

“Does he have a house here?” Magnus asks several of them, but nobody seems to think so.

Just as he’s finished talking to the restaurant owner, his phone rings, and it’s Raphael. “Okay, I’ve got something, but it’s not going to help us find Mei,” Raphael says. “He’s got a permanent portal in the basement of one of these shops. Probably takes us back to the same estate you guys went to the first time.”

“Okay. Meet us back where we started.”

“Roger that.”

Magnus hangs up and then gestures for Alec to follow him. “Asmodeus probably has little towns all over this area that he owns, and a dozen permanent portals at his estate he uses to travel between them. If he has that sort of flexibility, I’m sure he has one that goes to wherever he’s holding my mother.”

Alec nods. “Which makes it more important that we _don’t_ use magic to get to her.”

They meet the others on the corner where they started. Raphael is frowning thoughtfully as they exchange the information they had gotten. “Look, you guys noticed the instant you passed the barrier, right?” he says, and all three warlocks nod. “So we should be able to trace the boundaries of it.”

“Sure, but what does it matter?” Jace asks.

“It’ll have a focus!” Izzy realizes. “A barrier spell wouldn’t be able to cover an area this big without having a focus. And ninety-nine percent of warlocks would put it at the dead center of the area, because that’s what would be the easiest for them. So if we can map out the barrier, we can find the focus.”

“And if we remove it, the spell will collapse,” Alec says, frowning thoughtfully.

“Would Asmodeus know if that happened?” Magnus asks.

“No,” Alec says. “The warlock who created it would know, but it seems pretty unlikely that he or she would run to Asmodeus to tell him about it.”

“God knows I wouldn’t if it were me,” Izzy says.

Raphael nods. “So we’ve got a plan. Let’s get a map.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your patience! The worst of the writer's block seems to be over now and I've figured out how things should go! And thank you all for the encouraging messages you sent me! <3

It takes a lot longer than Magnus would have liked to trace around the boundaries of the spell and map it out. Half of it is outside the town, on some fairly rough terrain. By the time they’re done, the sun is coming up. They grab a quick bite to eat before heading to the spot on the map that was at the center of the dead zone. What they find there is a little shed, constructed out of wood and with only one window.

“Nice place,” Izzy observes.

“Put it in Manhattan and you could sell it for one point two million,” Alec says, and Magnus gives a little snigger.

Raphael rolls his eyes at all of them and approaches cautiously, taking a quick peek in the window. “I don’t see anyone,” he says in an undertone.

“Lights are on, though,” Jace says.

“Stay here a second,” Raphael says, taking out his stele and drawing the stealth rune. He eases the door to the shed open and disappears inside. A moment later, it opens wide and he beckons them in. “Yeah, it’s empty.”

Magnus follows him inside and studies the room. The only thing there is a symbol carved on the floor. Five candles are arranged around it, all of them lit but casting slightly different shades of light. “Interesting,” he says.

“That’s our focus, right?” Jace says, and starts toward it.

“Don’t – ” Alec starts, but Jace has already blown out one of the candles. A sudden wind rises around them, rattling the window. “Just blow one out,” Alec finishes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jace grimaces a little. “Uh, sorry?”

A moment later, the door bursts open and the window simultaneously shatters, as a horde of insectoid demons burst in to attack. Magnus notes distantly that it would have been one hell of a booby trap for anyone who was on their own. Against two Shadowhunters and three warlocks, however, the little demons don’t have a chance.

“Ugh, that was disgusting,” Izzy says, looking down at her outfit, now drenched in greenish-yellow blood. “Jace, _you_ are paying for dry-cleaning this.”

“Seems fair,” Jace says.

Alec rolls his eyes, although he looks faintly amused. “Well, there were certainly more discreet and less disgusting ways we could have done it, but on the upside, the barrier spell is broken now. Let’s go find Mei and get the hell out of here.”

“Agreed,” Magnus says, trying not to betray how eager he is.

Alec starts the tracking spell again. He has two running at once, so he can differentiate between Asmodeus and Mei. He doesn’t want them to get sidetracked and end up finding the wrong parent. The downside to the tracking is that it leads them on the most direct path. They end up slogging up and down trees, through dense foliage.

“Okay, Magnus, you know I love you,” Raphael says, “but this is the worst. If I get one more mosquito bite, I’m going home.”

“Square deal,” Magnus says.

“Oh, I think I might know a spell that will help, it’s like a repulsion spell,” Izzy says, then frowns. “But we’ll have to stay three feet away from each other. Which we basically are? But then it might get messy if we had to fight.”

“I think we can all handle some bug bites,” Alec says, rolling his eyes and hacking a branch out of his way. He slows down a few minutes later, frowning faintly as the vial tilts upward further and further until it’s pointing straight up. They all look up. “So he lives in a tree. Super.”

“Smart,” Raphael says. “Hard to access, easy to defend.”

“Well, if you give me a minute, we can get you guys up – ” Jace starts.

Magnus gathers himself and leaps up onto the nearest available branch, then smirks down at the warlocks. “You were saying?”

“Show off,” Raphael says, clearly amused, as he starts up after him. Alec shakes his head at their antics and uses his magic to follow them up, with Jace and Izzy on his heels.

The house is smaller than Magnus would have expected, on a platform that’s nestled in between two of the branches of a large tree. It’s built entirely out of wood, with windows that have only thin screening to keep out bugs rather than glass. Raphael uses his stealth rune again, but it lasts only a few seconds before one of Asmodeus’ men barges through the door and attacks. Raphael makes quick work of the man with his seraph blade, but not before the rest of Asmodeus’ men are alerted.

This fight isn’t like the one with the small demons. Asmodeus’ men are well-trained, and there are at least a dozen of them. He was clearly expecting an attack, but he also wasn’t expecting the warlocks to be able to use their powers. At the end of the fight, Raphael has a gash on his cheek and Izzy has a broken wrist, but they’re largely unscathed. “Here, let me get that,” Alec says, directing a wisp of magic at Raphael’s face to seal the wound and stop the bleeding. He nods in thanks, while Jace takes care of Izzy’s arm.

Magnus is unhurt, if a bit bloody. He’s found his mother in a back room, still surrounded by that faint green glow. “How long before Asmodeus realizes we’ve come and gone?” he asks, as Alec opens the portal.

“Depends on how often he was checking in,” Alec says. “Probably within an hour, maybe sooner.”

Magnus nods and stands, lifting his mother with him, wincing a little at the cold sensation of the magic she’s cloaked in. “No time like the present, then.”

The group tumbles through the portal in some disarray, and Alec snaps it shut behind them. Magnus lays Mei down on the table, grabbing a pillow off the sofa to tuck underneath her head, while Izzy flicks a finger to turn on the lights. Night has fallen in New York, although it’s not too late. “We have to get wards up before anything else,” Alec says.

“Doesn’t this place already have wards?” Raphael asks.

“Yes, and they’re very impressive,” Alec says, “and I’m going to put up several more even more impressive sets.”

Raphael nods. “Sounds good.”

“We should call Luke,” Magnus says. “When my mother wakes up, she’ll need a familiar face. She might not recognize me or know who I am.”

“I can let him in once the wards are up,” Alec says. “Actually, if he goes over to the Institute, I can just portal over and get him.”

“I’ll give him a call,” Magnus says, and pushes a hand through his hair. “God, I hadn’t even told him that she’s alive. The whole thing with Camille happened and derailed me.”

Alec gets started on the wards and Magnus takes out his phone. It takes about an hour to get everything sorted out. Magnus stays with his mother, itching to hold her hand. He finds himself reaching for her several times. Raphael doesn’t say anything, but just stays with him silently. When Luke arrives, he hugs Magnus for several long moments.

“Okay,” Alec finally says, after what feels like an eternity to Magnus. “Let’s do this.”

He takes the book in one hand, holding the other over Mei. Magnus tries not to hover, because he knows that Alec needs to concentrate, but he can’t help it. He stays right at his elbow, watching the magic drift off Alec’s hand and surround his mother. Alec doesn’t seem to notice, focused on the incantation and the forces he’s summoning.

Mei’s body shudders. Magnus clutches instinctively at the person closest to him, which happens to be Luke. Then, abruptly, the green glow becomes a brilliant flash of light and then disappears. Mei’s body starts to fall, and Luke grabs her before she can hit the floor.

Magnus realizes he’s holding his breath as Mei opens her eyes. She focuses on Luke and mumbles, “Luke?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says, with a bright smile. “It’s me, I’m here.”

She blinks slowly as she regains her bearings, and Luke gently sets her on her feet. He keeps one hand on her arm to steady her. She looks around, eyes skimming over the gathered people, and then her gaze snaps back to Magnus. “Oh,” she says, a noise like someone kicked her in the stomach. “Oh my God. Magnus – is that you?”

Magnus can only manage a nod. Mei takes his face between her hands, tears starting down her cheeks. “Look at you,” she chokes out. “You’re so – so grown up, so handsome – how long have I been gone?”

“About seven years,” Luke says, as Mei brushes Magnus’ hair out of his face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Mei says. “I never wanted to leave you. I missed you so much every day. I’ll never leave you again.”

Magnus wraps his arms around Mei’s waist and buries his face in her shoulder, hugging her as tightly as he can. She hugs him back just as tightly. Alec decides to let them have a few minutes, and he beckons Izzy and Raphael to follow him out of the living room and into the kitchen.

“What are we going to do about Asmodeus?” Raphael asks, as Alec starts hunting for a bottle of wine.

“I feel like that’s more for you guys to decide than me,” Alec says. “He’s broken the Accords all to hell and back. Isn’t it your job to take care of him?”

Raphael arches an eyebrow as Alec’s tone borders on belligerent. “Sure, if you _want_ to leave it up to the Clave . . .”

Alec sighs and pushes a hand through his hair, and Izzy reaches out and gives his hand a squeeze. “We know it’s not your fault, Raphael,” she says. “It’s just that the Clave let Asmodeus run loose a long time before they did anything about him. And if he hadn’t tried to steal the Mortal Cup, they might _never_ have tried to shut him down. They’ve known he was alive, even knew his basic location, but they haven’t done anything about him this whole time.”

“Oh, yeah, the Clave is the worst,” Raphael casually agrees, and Alec gives a snort of laughter despite himself. “The fact is that the Clave won’t do shit about Asmodeus unless we make them. So let’s make them. If we can capture him and deliver him to the City of Bones, they won’t be able to say anything about it. That’s the deal with the Clave. You have to play by their rules, because they won’t risk making themselves look bad.”

Alec opens his mouth, then closes it and all but throws his hands up into the air. He pours the wine into glasses and takes a large swallow before he dares speak. “Okay, well, I could find him again, the same way we found Mei, unless he closes himself off to the blood bond like Mei closed Magnus off for a long time. Maybe you can find some Shadowhunters who are willing to help us bring him down. I’m not risking any of my people.”

Raphael nods and accepts his glass of wine. “Understood.”

Alec shakes his head a little and then uses his magic to support the other glasses of wine, since he has too many to carry with his hands. Magnus is still leaning into his mother’s embrace, but he looks up when Alec comes back in, and his smile is the most beautiful thing Alec has ever seen. Luke is standing by them, with a hand on Mei’s shoulder. “Wine?” Alec says, gesturing so the glasses fly to their intended guests.

Magnus catches both his and his mother’s. “Mama, this is Alexander Lightwood. The High Warlock of Brooklyn. Also my boyfriend, who I’m madly in love with. He’s the one who helped me find you, helped me wake you up.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lightwood,” Mei says, with a smile that’s almost shy.

“Call me Alec,” he says, blushing slightly.

“God, you’re so grown up now,” Mei says. “I’ve missed so much, there’s so much I need you to tell me . . .”

“Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” Luke suggests, putting his hand on Mei’s back. “Let’s sit down for a while, and we can catch up.”

“Should we get something to eat?” Magnus asks. “Are you hungry, Mother?”

“I suppose I must be if I haven’t eaten in seven years,” Mei says, and laughs quietly. “I’m not really feeling it yet? It doesn’t feel like any time passed at all. That’s not even what the spell was supposed to do, I don’t know why . . .”

Her voice trails off, and Magnus squeezes her hand. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”

“I’ll go get some food,” Izzy says.

“I’m the only one who can come and go right now,” Alec says, and gestures. “The wards. I mean, I could let you out and let you back in, but it’s easier if I just go myself. Be right back.”

He portals out, and Luke steers Mei over to the closest chair. Magnus immediately pulls one up next to her. “God, I’ve missed so much of your life,” Mei says, reaching out for his hand. “You have to tell me everything. Where, where did you study? How did you meet Alec? Oh! How’s Ragnor? Is he still at the New York Institute?”

“Slow down,” Luke says, laughing quietly. “There’s a lot to talk about.”

“Luckily, Magnus loves to talk,” Raphael says.

Magnus laughs and says, “I definitely cannot argue with that. Mama, this is Raphael Santiago, from the Mexico City Institute. He’s my parabatai.”

“Charmed,” Raphael says, offering Mei one of his rare smiles.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Mei says.

“Yeah, he needs a lot of looking after,” Raphael agrees, and Magnus gives a snort of laughter (and then flips Raphael the bird when his mother isn’t looking).

Magnus is a little bit afraid that telling his mother how things have been for him will make her feel bad about abandoning him, but there isn’t a way around it. He starts with Ragnor taking him in and fending off the Clave, then getting him admitted to the Academy. “Just like I knew he would!” Mei says, clearly pleased. He tells her about the different Institutes and meeting Raphael. Alec comes in with several pizzas, and they dig in.

Magnus doesn’t want to spend the entire time talking about himself. After some coaxing, Mei tells him about her childhood in China, and about her first years as a Shadowhunter. They don’t talk about Asmodeus. Raphael unbends enough to tell a couple funny stories about when he and Magnus were training together. It’s late before the conversation trails off.

Luke sees Magnus stifle a yawn and says, “I should probably go. You guys had one hell of a day.”

“You can crash here if you want,” Izzy says, and Alec gives her his typical ‘this is my apartment, please stop offering it to guests’ look but doesn’t protest. “I mean, warlocks. We can conjure up a place for you to sleep pretty easily. Especially you, Mei, if you don’t have a place to go.”

Magnus gives Alec a questioning glance, and he nods, reaching out to squeeze Magnus’ hand. “Of course, Mei is welcome to stay here as long as she wants. So are you, Luke, if you want to stay with her.”

Luke looks over at Mei, who nods, so he says, “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

Raphael pushes back from the table and stands up. “I’m going to head back to the Institute for the night. Ragnor might be back by now, I’d like to check in with him.”

“Tell him I said hello,” Magnus says.

“I’ll open a portal for you,” Alec says.

“I’ll get a guest room set up,” Izzy says, standing up.

Magnus gives Raphael a quick embrace. A few moments later, he’s gone. Izzy shows Mei and Luke around the apartment, telling them cheerfully about the history of the building and where to find anything they might need. Jace cleans up the aftermath of their meal and then heads into his own room.

“I’m going to head to bed,” Alec says, with a yawn and then a stretch. Magnus watches him appreciatively, but then glances in the direction his mother had headed. Alec leans over and presses a kiss against his temple. “You stay with your mom. I would, if I were in your shoes. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you, darling,” Magnus says, giving him a more generous kiss in return.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec sleeps restlessly, and is a little discomfited to realize how much he’d gotten used to the feeling of Magnus in the bed with him. He gets up early, showers and dresses and decides to go out and pick up some breakfast. He comes back about half an hour later with some pastries and coffee, and heads into the guest room. Magnus has fallen asleep curled up between Mei and Luke, and it’s so cute that he can’t bring himself to disturb them. He takes a quick photograph and then sits down with his coffee and a pecan roll.

About an hour later, Magnus rolls out of bed and wanders into the kitchen, looking sleepy but gorgeous. It’s all Alec can do not to throw him up against the counter and debauch him where he’s standing, but somehow he resists. Magnus, for his part, is more interested in the coffee. He texts Raphael one-handedly while he eats a bear claw, just to check in. “I was thinking we might go down to the park today,” he says, waiting for the reply. “Get my mother some fresh air.”

Alec frowns a little. “I want to say yes, but are we sure that would be safe? I can do the blocking spell on you again so Asmodeus won’t be able to track you, but . . . he’ll be looking for you, and this is the obvious place for us to be.”

Magnus grimaces. “You’re right, of course, but how long can we stay inside these walls? We can’t keep my mother prisoner.”

“No, but if Raphael can cobble together a team of people who are actually willing to take Asmodeus down, it might not be that long. And I didn’t say we couldn’t go outside at all – just that I don’t think Central Park is the best idea.”

“Fair enough.” Magnus sips his coffee. “Los Angeles? That’s where she was stationed, she might have a place or two she’d like to visit.”

“Sounds good,” Alec says.

“I’ll probably be needed for assignment tonight, though,” Magnus adds. “The whole debacle with Camille, then this – I haven’t taken a mission in a week. The city is probably brimming with demons for me to kill.” He glances down at his phone and frowns faintly. “It’s a little odd that Raphael hasn’t texted me back yet. I suppose he might not be up yet. Hang on, I’m going to call him.”

Alec glances over from where he’s chopping vegetables, feeling a spike of uneasiness. Raphael is one of the most reliable people he’s ever met. He watches while Magnus holds the phone to his ear, then sets it down. “Voice mail.”

“Something’s wrong,” Alec says immediately, without even thinking about it.

Magnus nods, dialing another number, then another. “Nothing but voice mail, no matter whoever there I call. He’s there.”

“Who’s where?” Luke asks, yawning as he comes into the kitchen.

“I can’t get a hold of Raphael,” Magnus says, his voice tight with worry.

“I’m going to wake Izzy and Jace,” Alec says, jogging out of the room. He rousts his two siblings out of bed without any trouble.

The commotion wakes Mei, who goes pale as soon as she hears what’s going on. “This is all my fault,” she says, pressing both hands over her face. “I should have known he would never let me go – ”

“Nothing about this is your fault,” Magnus tells her firmly. “Don’t worry about a thing. We can take care of this. I want you to stay here with Luke while I go back to the Institute with Alec and the others to see what’s going on.”

“Sure you sure? It’s me he wants, he might – ”

“I’m very sure,” Magnus says, and squeezes her hands. “I did not find you only to lose you. Stay here, stay safe.”

Alec already has a portal open, but then opens a second one. “Izzy, Jace, go through this one. It’ll bring you out in Magnus’ room, upstairs. Magnus and I will go in through the front and see what’s going on.”

“Be careful,” Izzy says. Alec nods, and Jace squeezes his shoulder before they step through the portal. Alec and Magnus go through the first portal a second later, and Alec closes it behind them.

They come out right in front of the Institute. “I figured we would go in through the doors, kind of try to pretend we didn’t know anything was wrong,” Alec says.

“That might not work if Asmodeus is checking Raphael’s phone, but we can give it a try.” Magnus doesn’t waste time. He strides forward purposefully and shoves the doors open, but stops dead before taking three more steps. There’s barely enough room for Alec to get in behind him before the doors close between them.

He can see immediately why Magnus had stopped so abruptly. Raphael and Ragnor are both kneeling in the hallway with men behind them, holding seraph blades to their throats. Ragnor looks exhausted, and Raphael looks pissed. “Thought you guys were never going to show up,” he says, in his usual calm tone. “I’ve been kneeling here all fucking night.”

“Sorry about that,” Magnus says, his seraph blade already drawn. “I assume Asmodeus is in charge of the festivities?”

“So it would seem,” Raphael says.

“Then where is his cowardly ass?” Magnus addresses this question to the hallway in general, rather than Raphael and Ragnor.

“Here!” Asmodeus’ voice says jovially, as he steps through the arch that leads into the rest of the Institute. Magnus’ hand grips tighter at his blade. “I’d apologize for crashing the party, but, well. We all knew it would come to this, didn’t we?” His smile never falters. “Where is my wife?”

“What wife?” Magnus asks.

Now Asmodeus’ smile thins. “Where is your mother?”

“Somewhere safe from you,” Magnus retorts.

“Lightwood’s lair, then,” Asmodeus says dismissively. “I’ll deal with that later.”

Magnus gestures with his seraph blade and says, “I’ll see you in Hell before you touch a hair on her head.”

That seems to amuse Asmodeus. “Well, you certainly got your penchant for the dramatic from me. But you must have noticed that I’m in the position of advantage. Oh, and don’t think you’re going to get the drop on me. I’ve stationed men all throughout this Institute. It doesn’t matter where Lightwood’s siblings portal into – my men are waiting for them.”

Alec grimaces. He hopes that Izzy and Jace are smart enough to go right back through the portal rather than get apprehended, although he doubts it. “Okay. You’re in the position of advantage. You’ve clearly got demands, so drop the God damned melodrama and let’s hear them.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, freak,” Asmodeus says.

“He wants Magnus to go with him,” Raphael says, and then makes a little choked noise as Asmodeus hits him on the back of the head so hard that the blade being held to his throat digs in. It doesn’t deter Raphael, however, who continues, “He’s been talking about it all night. How ‘misunderstood’ he is, and how once he’s explained himself, Magnus will join him to rule the galaxy and some shit.”

“I would have phrased it differently,” Asmodeus says, “but to be fair, he’s got the gist of it.”

“If you want to explain yourself, you can do it here,” Magnus says.

“No, I don’t think so. I have a feeling that this discussion is going to require some privacy.” Asmodeus smiles at Magnus. “You’re my _son_ , Magnus. And Mei took you from me. She’ll answer to that in time, but surely you can find an hour for me, so we can get to know each other a little better.”

“Like you have any intention to let him go after an hour,” Alec says.

Asmodeus just shrugs. “That’s between me and him. After the hour is up, we can . . . renegotiate.”

Alec looks at Magnus and says, “I don’t like this.”

“Me neither.” Magnus lets out a breath. “But if I go with you, you’ll let Raphael and Ragnor go unharmed? Everyone else being held in the Institute as well?”

“You have my word,” Asmodeus says.

“Like your word means anything,” Raphael snarls.

Ragnor agrees. “Magnus, don’t do this. We have no idea what he plans to do once he gets you alone; it isn’t worth sacrificing yourself.”

“For an entire Institute? I’d say it is.” Magnus slides his hand out of Alec’s. “Let them go first.”

Asmodeus laughs. “I don’t think so.”

“One of them,” Magnus says. “Let one of them go, as a show of your good faith. Then I’ll go with you.”

Asmodeus thinks that over, then nods. He gives a quick gesture, and the man holding a blade to Ragnor’s throat takes a few steps back. With the release of tension, Ragnor sags against the wall, letting it hold him up. Asmodeus gestures again, and a man standing behind him steps over and opens a portal with one hand. His gaze never leaves the floor as he steps through it. “Let’s go, son.”

Magnus glances at Alec and says, “I’ll see you soon.”

Alec nods. “I’ll be waiting.”

Magnus sheathes his seraph blade and walks over to Asmodeus, his stride steady. Asmodeus takes him by the elbow and pulls him over to the portal. His men release Raphael and head through ahead of them. Raphael staggers to his feet just as Magnus and Asmodeus step through the portal. By the time he’s standing, the portal is closed.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your patience, everybody! <3

Magnus winces a little as bright sunlight and sharp wind meet his face. There’s a spray of damp saltwater, and he realizes quickly that they’re on the deck of a ship. “Nice place,” he says, glancing around. It’s bigger than he would have expected, some kind of commercial transport vessel.

“Isn’t it, though?” Asmodeus is beaming at him. “I procured it a week ago. After your first visit, it became clear that it was only a matter of time before you came back for your mother. I’ve been making . . . arrangements for when that happened.”

Magnus’ mouth tightens. “It does make me wonder exactly how you got into the Institute to begin with.”

“The fates were kind to me,” Asmodeus says, still smiling. “If you had gotten to Mei even a few days earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to. You see, somewhere up there, angels are smiling down on my quest to make my family whole again.”

It takes a great deal of effort to keep Magnus from telling him to shut his mouth. Instead, he checks his watch and says, “You’ve got fifty-eight minutes left.”

“Coffee? Tea?” Asmodeus gestures for Magnus to follow him down into the belly of the ship. “Wine? I don’t even know what my son likes to drink.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Magnus says.

“Not going to give an inch, I see,” Asmodeus says. They head into the galley, where he puts a kettle on and makes Magnus tea regardless. Magnus resists the urge to hiss and spit like a cat, accepting the mug and then immediately setting it down without taking a drink. “You’ve got me all wrong, you know.”

“Is that so?” Magnus says. “So you’re saying you’re innocent of the crimes you’ve been accused of? That you didn’t, in fact, orchestrate and facilitate and personally participate in the murder of hundreds, if not thousands, of people?”

“I do deny it,” Asmodeus says. “Categorically. In the same way an exterminator would deny it if you accused him of genocide after he fumigated an apartment.”

Magnus’ hand tightens on the back of the chair he’s leaning against. “Ah, I see. It was okay for you to kill those people because you didn’t consider them people. That fixes everything.”

Asmodeus shakes his head. “I don’t understand this attitude. We both want the same thing! To save this world from demons. The Clave fights demons, the Shadowhunters were given their power to hunt demons. But the Clave has grown soft. They protect Downworlders now, under the guise of the Accords. But all Downworlders will one day give in to their violent tendencies. It’s unavoidable. Even a single drop of demon blood in one’s veins makes them a threat to humanity.”

When he stops speaking, Magnus waits a moment, and then says, “Are you finished?”

“That depends on you, I suppose.”

Magnus shakes his head and says, “If you’re waiting for me to look like I’ve seen the light and I suddenly realized you’re not full of shit, that’s going to be a long wait for a train that’s not coming.”

Asmodeus’ mouth purses in irritation. “So be it, then. If you refuse to listen, I’ll have to show you.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Magnus has been gone for fewer than ten seconds before Izzy charges into the room with Jace on her heels. She takes in the situation and then curses vividly and fluently. “Sorry, Alec, they were waiting for us up there, it ended up being a fight – ”

Alec shakes his head a little. “He was prepared for us. I don’t know that there’s any way we could have come out on top.”

“Raphael, you’re bleeding,” Izzy says, reaching out to him.

“Yeah. Just a flesh wound.” Raphael looks around and adds, “I don’t know where they took our stuff. My stele and everything.”

“Here, let me.” Alec sends a little bit of magic his way to stop the bleeding. Raphael touches the wound gingerly and then nods in thanks. “Go find your stuff and make sure everybody else is okay. I’ll see if I can do a tracking spell. Magnus gave me one of his rings in case things went south.”

Raphael nods. He helps Ragnor to his feet, and the two of them head into the Institute. Alec wraps his hand tightly around the ring, but can’t feel or see anything. Magnus has good and vanished. It’s not really a surprise to him. There are plenty of places that Magnus could have been taken where his magic can’t reach, the most likely being over water.

A few minutes later, Raphael comes back with a grim face. Alec sees it and his face tightens. “Casualties?”

“No few,” Raphael says. “Ragnor’s dealing with it.”

Alec lets out a breath. “I’m sorry. We should have seen this coming.”

Raphael shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, or Magnus’. Trust me, the idea that Asmodeus would retaliate was something that occurred to me. But he never should have been able to get in here. I don’t know how he did.”

“I do,” Izzy says suddenly. “Camille.”

Raphael blinks at her, then swears under his breath. “Yeah, she would do that. Not that I know how he would have found out about what happened.”

“She went to him, I bet,” Alec says. “The Clave has known that Asmodeus was in Jakarta. She could have found him easily enough.”

“But she didn’t know anything about Mei, about the fact that Magnus was trying to find her – ” Jace says, frowning.

“She didn’t need to. She only knew that Asmodeus was Magnus’ father and had been looking for him. That came out when we figured out who his parents were and why Mei had left him here. Going to Asmodeus and saying ‘hey, your son is in New York City’ was bound to fuck Magnus up _somehow_ , and Camille doesn’t seem like a planner.” Alec grimaces. “But that’s something to deal with later. Right now we have to find Magnus. I can’t track him,” he adds, and looks at Raphael. “You?”

“Same,” Raphael says. “He’s probably got him over water.”

Alec gnaws on his lower lip, thinking. “The question is, would he stay in New York, or take him back to Indonesia, where he’s more familiar?”

Raphael frowns. “Both ways have pros and cons. He knows we’ll be expecting him to go back to Indonesia. But staying here is risky, because we know the area better. So which risk would Asmodeus prefer?”

“Why don’t we ask Mei?” Izzy suggests. “She knows him far better than us, and we should loop her in.”

Alec nods. “Good idea.”

When they get back to the loft, Mei is pacing anxiously while Luke sits with his hands folded tightly in his lap. They see that Magnus isn’t with them, and Mei immediately demands, “What happened, where’s Magnus?”

“He went with Asmodeus,” Alec says, not bothering to try to cushion it. Mei goes pale, but keeps herself together. “He agreed to let everyone at the Institute go in exchange for an hour of Magnus’ time – although I doubt he actually plans to let him go afterwards.”

Mei shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything. Raphael gives some brief details, then asks about whether Asmodeus would prefer New York or Indonesia. Luke frowns faintly and looks at Mei, as if worried that she’s going to be too upset to think straight. But Mei answers, calmly and without hesitation. “He’ll be here in New York.”

She’s so confident that Alec asks, “What makes you so sure?”

“A few reasons,” Mei says. “What you were saying about him taking risks is true. But he won’t see staying here as a risk, because that would be acknowledging that you – either the Shadowhunters here, or Alec and his family – are a threat to him. He won’t believe that, so there’s no reason to go all the way back to Indonesia. Secondly, he has that warlock of his under wraps, but there’s no reason to push him. A portal halfway around the world is difficult, and if he pushes his warlock to do too much magic it could backfire. But none of that is really why. It’s that if he leaves New York, he has to abandon the façade that this is just a friendly chat while he gets to know his son. In Indonesia, Magnus will be a prisoner, unable to get back here without someone to open a portal for him. Asmodeus wants to seem friendly, wants to get Magnus on his side. It’s how he is.”

Jace looks skeptical. “I don’t get it.”

“You have to remember, Asmodeus didn’t get to where he is by acting like a psychopath,” Mei says. “He’s charming, approachable, manipulative. He didn’t force people to join the Circle, to swear allegiance to him. He made people _want_ to. That’s what makes him dangerous.”

“But Magnus sees right through all that bullshit,” Raphael says.

“Of course he does,” Mei says. “But that will only make Asmodeus _more_ determined to win him over. He’ll see it as a challenge, for one thing, and secondly he’ll do it because he knows it would – ” Her voice catches slightly. “To see Magnus join him would break my heart worse than anything else he could ever do to me. This is about revenge, about the fact that I took his son from him.”

Alec lets out a breath. “Okay, so he’s going to try to Stockholm Syndrome Magnus into joining up with him. That doesn’t help us find him, but it does mean that we’ve got time. It means he won’t hurt Magnus.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Luke says grimly. “Or more accurately, it doesn’t mean Magnus won’t be hurt. Just that Asmodeus won’t do it personally. He’ll be the one who patches Magnus up afterwards, who heals him, protects him. But he’ll still hurt him, if he thinks he can use it to gain something.”

Raphael pinches the bridge of his nose. “Either way, Magnus is no fainting flower. He knows we’re looking for him. He’ll also be doing his damnedest to try to get away from Asmodeus. We just need to find him.”

“So how do we do that?” Izzy asks. “Isn’t there some Shadowhunter magic you can use?”

“I could track him through the parabatai bond,” Raphael says, “but I’d rather not if I don’t have to. It’ll weaken both of us if I do it, and we don’t know the specifics of Magnus’ situation. But he’s here, he’s over water. The Institute monitors the waterways, so the first thing we need to do is pull up those maps and see if there are any magical disturbances.”

“Okay,” Alec says, “and while you’re doing that, I have something else I want to try. Odds are that Asmodeus only has one warlock currently doing his bidding, which means the one who made the wards last night is the same one making the portals. I might be able to track the magical signature well enough to see where the portal he made came out.”

Luke stands up. “Meanwhile, I can do some digging into who might have purchased a vessel or hired the services of someone who knows how to operate one. Mei, do you want to come with me?”

“I’ll go with Raphael,” she says. “I can talk to Ragnor, brainstorm a bit more.”

“Okay. Raphael, let me put my number in your phone – ”

There’s a momentary flurry of activity as everyone exchanges contact information, and then the group breaks up without any more conversation.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Magnus says little while Asmodeus gives him the guided tour of the belly of the ship, a prison he’s filled with dark creatures who he says have harmed people. Asmodeus clearly expects him to have opinions, and seems a bit annoyed when Magnus doesn’t argue or agree. He talks at length about how and why he formed the Circle, about his realization that Downworlders were taking advantage of the Accords, about how the Clave had lost the ability to handle them.

Finally, Magnus glances at his watch and says, “Your sixty minutes are up. I’m leaving now.”

Asmodeus looks somewhat amused. “How exactly do you plan to do that?”

It annoys Magnus to admit, but Asmodeus has a point. He has no idea how far out in the water they are, but he doubts he could swim to shore. “I suppose asking you to drop me off at Long Beach wouldn’t get me anywhere?”

“Not particularly. Oh, and I should show you . . .” Asmodeus walks over to one of the cells and pulls out a set of keys. With great ceremony, he drags a man out by the elbow. “This warlock has committed all sorts of crimes against humanity. Let him be the example of why it would be an extremely bad idea to go swimming.”

Magnus follows Asmodeus up onto the deck, watches as Asmodeus pushes the warlock into the barrier surrounding the ship. The warlock screams as it burns away half of his body, and then Asmodeus drops him to the floor in a heap. The body twitches once and then goes still.

“It’s a work of art, this ship,” Asmodeus says. “As fond as I’ve grown of Indonesia, I might like this even better.”

Magnus feels a bit sick. “You said we would renegotiate after an hour. This isn’t much of a negotiation.”

“I never said you would like the terms.” Asmodeus smiles, then gestures as the man in the hooded robe emerges from the innards of the ship. “Hodge, take care of this for me, would you?”

The warlock nods and starts cleaning up the remains of the body. Magnus watches him for a few moments, until he finishes what he’s doing, bows, and heads back inside. “So how do you keep your pet warlock in check, if they’re so dangerous?”

“They learn the consequences for disobeying,” Asmodeus says. “It wouldn’t be my first choice, to keep one on hand, but the ability to portal is unmatched by Nephilim magic, and crucial to my operations.”

“Yes, what are those, exactly?” Magnus asks. “You’ve spent the last twenty-five years doing what, since you left the Clave?”

Asmodeus gives an elegant shrug. “Cleaning up where I can, but mostly, planning the next phase. My defeat twenty-five years ago taught me a valuable lesson. Patience is a cruel mistress, but I’ve learned it well. Mostly, I’ve been doing research. Learning about the Downworld, about demons, about how we can defeat them once and for all.”

“And how is that?” Magnus doesn’t challenge his use of the word ‘we’, because he’s more interested in hearing details of Asmodeus’ plan.

“How adorable that you think I’m going to tell you,” Asmodeus says, clearly amused.

“Worth a try,” Magnus says with a shrug.

Asmodeus’ phone chimes, and he glances down at it. “Ah, I have some business to attend to. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you on your own for a while. Don’t go anywhere,” he adds with a wink, before turning and walking through one of the doors, to the interior of the ship.

Magnus rolls his eyes and forces himself to count off thirty seconds. Once those are over, he heads into the ship and goes looking for the warlock. He’s hoping that he can talk to him, convince him that he can help. He’s not sure where he’ll be, but heads down to the decks where the supernatural creatures are being kept. They might know more about him.

He breathes shallowly as he moves among the cells, looking for someone who might still be coherent. The way Asmodeus has treated these people makes him sick. He wonders if he could break open the cells, but then remembers that even if he can, there’s no way to get them off the ship. He’ll have to think about that.

“What are you doing down here?” someone demands, and a man and a woman appear in the doorway that leads up the stairs. The man is in a business suit, and the woman in a leather jacket and jeans. Their circle runes are in prominent display.

“Just looking around,” Magnus says. “Asmodeus had to take a call.”

The woman’s lip curls. “You’re _him_ , then. The boss’s brat.”

“I’m no happier with the association, trust me,” Magnus replies.

“You’re too good for this, huh?” the man says, giving him a shove. “That’s the problem with the Clave’s boot-lickers. You all think you’re God’s gift to mankind. You don’t understand how pathetic and useless you really are.”

“Of course, you’re completely correct,” Magnus says, because he has absolutely no interest in getting in an argument with these people. “Pathetic and useless, that’s me. I’ll leave you alone.”

The woman grabs him by the elbow as he turns to go. “You think it’s going to be that easy?”

“I think I don’t know what your problem with me is,” Magnus says, keeping his voice even. “I don’t even know you. If you’re worried that Asmodeus is going to favor me over you, don’t. I’m going to be out of your hair as soon as possible. If you’re angry that I disagree with your philosophy, take it up with somebody who gives a damn.”

The man’s response to this is to sucker-punch Magnus right in the kidneys. He staggers despite himself, having not expected the blow. They have to know that Asmodeus will be furious if he gets hurt, let alone killed. The woman laughs as he catches himself against the wall, but he comes back swinging. Asmodeus had taken his phone, but not his blade or his stele. He doesn’t take them out, not yet. He has more than enough training in martial arts, and a mean right hook which he uses to send the man stumbling. He dodges the woman’s first blow, stepping around her and throwing her into the wall. By then, the man has regained his balance, and he grabs Magnus from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. Magnus pistons his leg backwards, kicking him hard in the knee, and he flinches but doesn’t let go. The woman punches him across the face, and she’s strong. It hits hard, and Magnus momentarily loses track of where all his limbs are, unable to fight back as she hits him again.

He lets his body sag in the man’s grip and slams his foot down on his instep, making the man grunt in pain. Magnus follows up by slamming the back of his head into the man’s comparatively softer noise and mouth, and he yelps in pain and his hold loosens. Magnus twists out of his grip and goes for his seraph blade, using the momentum of the draw to slice a sizable gash in the man’s abdomen. The woman rushes him, her own blade now drawn. He catches it against his and lifts a foot into her stomach, sending her sprawling.

“What is going on here?” Asmodeus’ voice is sharp and angry, and he stops abruptly when he enters the room, seeing both his people on the ground.

“Oh, did you think you were going to rescue me?” Magnus spits at him furiously. “That you could tell your men to attack me and rough me up so you could show me how much you care, win my loyalty? I can take care of myself, Asmodeus. I don’t need you – I have _never_ needed you.”

Asmodeus’ face goes cold and angry. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know,” Magnus retorts. “I told you the day I met you. I had two fathers. Neither of them were you. There is _nothing_ you can say or do that will make me change my mind.”

Asmodeus studies him for a few moments, then, surprisingly, smiles. “You’re upset. I understand. Let’s take a break. You can go wherever you like on the ship. I promise none of my guys will attack you or even talk to you. There’s somewhere I want to take you, but it’ll have to wait until after dark.”

“Sure,” Magnus says, rolling his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Ah, and don’t bother looking for Hodge,” Asmodeus adds. “I sent him out to run an errand or two. There’s no way off the ship while he’s gone, so just relax, enjoy the fresh air. I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

It’s a long day for Alec, who has a headache by noon. Izzy has to remind him to eat something, and when it becomes clear that he’s not going to bother, get him food and put it in his hands. He’s trying to track down the warlock’s signature, but it’s maddeningly elusive. He comes to the conclusion that the warlock is hiding his tracks – which is only prudent, considering.

Raphael and Luke both text him periodically about all the nothing they’re finding. Alec is itching to tell Raphael that he wants him to try using the parabatai rune. “It puts them both in danger,” Izzy reminds him repeatedly.

“What the hell is the point of it, then?” Alec retorts. “Rune magic is the worst.”

Izzy can’t help but snort and agree with that. But as the day drags on, and no sign of Asmodeus and Magnus is found, Alec is starting to get more and more edgy. He knows that Magnus can take care of himself. But unlike Raphael and Magnus himself, he remembers the days of the Uprising. He remembers how ruthless Asmodeus can be. Only Mei’s rock-solid certainty that Asmodeus won’t kill Magnus keeps him from freaking out.

Just after sunset, Raphael turns back up at Alec’s loft. “Let’s try the parabatai bond.”

“Thank God,” Alec says, only barely managing to hold back the words, ‘fucking finally’. “What do you need?”

“I’m hoping I won’t need anything besides Ragnor to draw the rune,” Raphael says, “but Ragnor insisted I come get you, just in case.”

“In case of what?” Jace asks.

Raphael sighs and rolls his eyes. “Using the rune this way goes against what it stands for. A bonded pair is supposed to be in tune with each other, able to anticipate and fight together. If one of them needs to find the other against his will, something’s gone wrong. That’s why doing this causes pain and weakness. Ragnor wants you on hand in case I can’t handle it.”

Alec tries to picture Raphael not handling something. His mind comes up blank. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Look, I didn’t invent the – ” Raphael stops talking abruptly. Alec gives him a questioning look. “I can sense him.”

“What, we didn’t even do the spell yet,” Jace says.

“I know that,” Raphael says, rolling his eyes. “He must be on land.”

“Okay.” Alec grabs his shoes. “Let’s go.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Magnus interrupts Asmodeus’ story of tragic Reggie the pizza man and his vampire wife to say, “Is there a point to this?”

“Well, I thought you might want to take care of it,” Asmodeus says. “A demon is killing mundanes. Isn’t it your job to deal with things like that?”

Magnus rolls his eyes so hard that he briefly sees the back of his skull. “Yes, of course. It’s my job to ‘deal with’ things like this. For starters, it’s my job to thoroughly investigate claims, rather than take someone’s word on it. Once the claim is verified, then it’s my job to bring the Downworlder in question to justice. None of which entails raiding a vampire nest on the word of a genocidal maniac, without even bringing backup.”

Asmodeus ignores the part about taking his word on it and instead replies, “Oh, I brought you some backup.”

“Hello, darling,” Camille says, stepping out from around the building. “I’ve missed you.”

Magnus can’t help but stare, but then pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache setting in. “Of _course_ you’re here. I don’t even know why I’m surprised by that.”

“I did warn you that I wasn’t done with you,” Camille says. “Although I’ve enjoyed meeting your father.” She gives Asmodeus one of her up-and-down looks, her lips curving in a smile. “He has _all_ the best parts of you.”

“Mm hm.” Magnus glances over at his father and asks, “Enjoying my sloppy seconds?”

Camille sulks, but Asmodeus laughs. “Despite her best efforts, no. Camille has her charms, but I would never be unfaithful to my wife.”

“What wife?” Magnus asks.

Now Asmodeus’ smile thins. “That little quip is going to get old quite quickly, you know.”

“Oh, no, whatever shall we do?” Magnus replies. “I guess you’ll just have to let me go.”

“Ah, but I’m so enjoying getting to know you,” Asmodeus says.

Magnus has a really sharp retort in mind, but then, from inside the closed pizza parlor, he hears a scream. It’s the sort of full-throated scream of true terror; if it’s staged, it’s by an excellent actor. “Hell,” he hisses. “Camille, you had better have my six,” he adds, drawing his seraph blade as he starts into the restaurant.

The inside of the restaurant is dark and cluttered. The tables and chairs where patrons had once sat have been scattered around, some of them broken. Magnus heads through the doors in the back, into the kitchen. There’s a cluster of people there, huddled in a corner, and a vampire who has pulled one of them aside and is feeding on her. Magnus levels his blade and says, “Let her go, now.”

The vampire looks up at him and hisses in defiance. He drops his victim and lunges forward, and Magnus neatly removes his head from his shoulders. He hears a noise behind him and half-turns to see another vampire disappear in a shower of fire and ash. Camille smiles beatifically at him. “I’ve got your six, lover boy.”

“I loathe you with the fire of a thousand suns,” Magnus tells her, and gestures for the people in the corner to get up. “Let’s go, we’re getting out of here.”

Two more vampires attack, and Magnus lets Camille fend them off while he leads the mundanes to safety. They scatter as soon as they’ve left the building, possibly more afraid of him than they are of the vampires. He lets them go. The door shatters and a woman with dark hair runs out with Camille behind her.

“I saved her for you, Magnus,” Camille calls over to him, as the vampire sees him, and Asmodeus standing on the sidewalk, and stops in her tracks.

“Are you Maria?” Magnus asks her.

“Who’s asking?” she replies.

“You’ve been feeding on innocent mundanes.”

Maria sighs dramatically. “A girl’s gotta eat,” she says, and then lunges forward, baring her teeth at Magnus. He ducks easily and swings his seraph blade at her. She grabs him by both wrists and they struggle for a few moments before she withdraws. “You’re pretty strong for a Shadowhunter.”

“So I’ve been told,” Magnus replies, side-stepping her next move and sending her reeling. She snarls at him, and his blade whistles through the air, barely missing her throat by an inch. She stumbles backwards to avoid the blow and lands heavily on her back on the pavement.

Magnus pivots and is about to swing the blade downward, but she raises her hands in front of herself and gasps out, “I surrender to the authority of the Clave.”

The blade stops with the point resting against the hollow of her throat, and Asmodeus makes a scoffing noise. Then Magnus takes a step back, although the tip of his sword barely leaves her throat. “Get up,” he says.

“You’re not serious,” Asmodeus says. “You’re going to let her play you like this?”

“Nobody’s playing anybody,” Magnus says, not looking at Asmodeus. “She broke the Accords and she’ll be sentenced accordingly.”

“This _thing_ in front of you was once Reggie the pizza guy’s sweet and loving wife – ”

“Oh, for God’s sake, you didn’t even know Reggie the pizza guy,” Magnus says. “Will you please stop trying to act like his life mattered to you?”

“So you’re just going to – ” Asmodeus begins, but then they hear footsteps. His head jerks around as Raphael and Alec come around the corner, with Izzy and Jace not far behind. “Ah, company. Figured they’d find us sooner rather than later.”

Alec and the others ignore him, and Alec’s gaze is already focused on Magnus as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I – ” Magnus’ greeting dissolves into a wordless shout of warning as Camille emerges from the shadows, plunging a syringe into Alec’s neck where it meets his shoulder. Alec lets out a yelp that’s as much surprise as it is pain, yanking away from her. Magnus is still too far away to react, but Raphael isn’t; he grabs Camille by the wrist and twists it up behind her back, forcing her up against the wall of the pizza parlor.

Maria takes advantage of the chaos to turn on her heel and make a run for it. Asmodeus grabs her before she can get far, dragging her over to Magnus. “See what happens when you get soft?”

“What the fuck – ” Alec staggers, and both Izzy and Jace rush to support him. “What was in that?”

“A little concoction from your good friend Morgenstern,” Asmodeus says. “Apparently, Viktor and Camille went through his lab before you got there and took a few recipes. That one was said to be particularly excruciating, according to Morgenstern’s notes.”

Magnus strikes forward with his seraph blade, but Asmodeus counters, without ever loosening his grip on Maria. “Give us the recipe,” Magnus demands.

“I’ll do you one better and give you the antidote,” Asmodeus says. “All I need you to do in return is kill this creature who used to be Maria Velasquez.”

“I – what?” Magnus says, echoed by Maria, who renews her struggles.

“Kill her,” Asmodeus says. “Prove to me what you can do. Kill her and I’ll help you save the freak that you’re degrading yourself with.”

“You can’t kill me!” Maria gasps out. “I surrender, I surrendered!”

Raphael pulls Camille back from the wall and then slams her into it again. “Give us the recipe,” he says. “We’ll make our own antidote.”

Camille giggles despite her situation. “I’m not giving you a damned thing!”

Magnus looks instinctively over at Alec. He’s gone pale and sagged all the way to the ground, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists. Jace is holding him up and Izzy’s hands are glowing purple with her magic as she tries to help him. Magnus hesitates. “She surrendered. She’s not a danger, she can be taken before the Clave and punished for her crimes – ”

“Listen to yourself!” Asmodeus says. “Defending the rights of a monster, at the expense of your lover’s life. What is wrong with you?”

“M-Ma – ” Alec starts to say, but then chokes on the word, coughing uncontrollably.

Asmodeus shoves Maria forward, sending her to her knees between them. “Go on, son,” he says. “Do it.”

Magnus holds his seraph blade out. It shudders in his hand. But before he can swing it, Alec suddenly lunges upwards with one hand outstretched. A portal opens up right next to Maria, and a wave of force pushes her through it. It disappears a moment later, and Alec collapses. They stand in stunned silence for a few brief moments. Then Magnus moves, thrusting his sword deep into Asmodeus’ abdomen. Asmodeus grunts and reaches for his own blade, but Magnus grabs him by the wrist before he can get to it.

“The antidote,” Magnus bites out. “ _Now_.”

Asmodeus gives a wheezing laugh. “Better go – give him a kiss goodbye,” he manages, struggling against Magnus’ grip.

Magnus twists the blade in Asmodeus’ stomach. “Now!”

“It never existed,” Asmodeus says, still laughing as blood trickles down his chin. “You can’t save him.”

The words hit Magnus like a punch to the gut. He pulls the sword back, drawing it out of Asmodeus a bloody inch at a time. Then it flashes forward again, opening Asmodeus’ throat wide. Blood gushes from the wound, and Asmodeus crumples to the ground. Magnus flicks a few drops of blood off the blade and then looks over to where Raphael is still pinning Camille to the wall. “If there is no antidote, then give us the recipe you used to make the poison,” Magnus says.

“Bite me,” Camille responds.

Magnus grabs her and yanks her around so her back is to the wall, holding the blade to her throat. “Listen to me,” he says, meeting her gaze. “I love this man. I know you can’t understand that because you’ve never loved anybody besides yourself, but I also know that you _do_ love yourself. So if you don’t give me that recipe right now, I’m going to start by cutting out your eyes. Then your nose, then your lips. Then maybe your fingers. I will keep cutting until you’ve run out of things to lose. So this is your very last chance, Camille – give me that recipe.”

Camille holds his gaze for a moment, and he sees fear there, before she looks away and resumes her normal pout. “You don’t have to be so _mean_ about it.”

Raphael has to grab Magnus’ wrist as the blade starts to draw blood. “Easy,” he says in an undertone. “Camille, I won’t stop him again.”

She’s clearly sulking as she says, “I don’t have it with me.”

“Yes, you do,” Raphael says. “You would have known you might need it as a bargaining chip. Hand it over.”

Camille huffs. “It’s in my phone. Back pocket.”

Raphael reaches behind her and pulls it out. “Code?”

Looking more annoyed than anything else, Camille gives it to him. Raphael takes her directions until he has the picture of Valentine’s journal pulled up, and then he leaves Magnus holding Camille so he can show it to Izzy. Alec has passed out at this point, though his body is still shuddering. Izzy quickly scans the list of ingredients. “Yeah, I can counter this,” she says, and Magnus starts to breathe again. “But I’m going to need demon blood. An Eidolon demon – that’s what our father was. I need to use it as the base of the potion to counter the angelic elements. I’ll need a lot of it.”

“I should be able to get that in Idris,” Raphael says. “Which is where Camille needs to go anyway.”

“Okay. There are some things I’ll need from my lab, too.” Izzy seems to be thinking things over, then shakes her head. “I can’t open three portals, not that close together. And I can’t open a portal to Idris, anyway, since I’ve never been. But I can open one to get you guys back to the Institute – ”

“And then I can take the Institute portal to Idris,” Raphael says, nodding, “while Jace and Magnus stay with Alec.”

Izzy nods, then turns to Jace. “Just try to keep him stable. They went – ” She has to stop and take a deep breath. “They went for something slow and painful, luckily for us, so we have time. Raphael, when you get back to New York, just take a taxi over to my place.”

“Okay,” Magnus says, letting Raphael take Camille by the wrist and finally backing away from her. He gets a hand underneath Alec’s arm and helps Jace lift him up. “Let’s go.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, everybody!

Alec’s body is tense and shivering as Jace and Magnus lay him down on one of the beds in the infirmary. There’s not a lot they can do for him there, but Magnus doesn’t want to try to carry him up the stairs. The pain seems to get worse, the more they move him. He does relax slightly once they have him lying down, though his grip on Magnus’ hand is still so tight that it hurts.

“Is there anything you can do?” Magnus asks Jace, although he’s not very hopeful.

Jace grimaces. “I wasn’t good at healing magic even _before_ Morgenstern fucked with me. I haven’t practiced in a hundred years, so I’m afraid I’d make things worse. I can knock him out, though – that might be better for him.”

“I don’t think he’s really conscious,” Magnus says, shaking his head. Alec’s eyes are closed and he hasn’t responded to their conversation. His body is wracked by the occasional spasm. Magnus smoothes his hair back out of his face, and Alec doesn’t seem to notice.

Jace watches them for a moment, then says, somewhat awkwardly, “Hey, he’ll be okay. I mean, Izzy’s a genius, so . . .”

“I know, it’s just . . .” Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose as his eyes sting with tears. “If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened to him.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jace says with a shrug, and Magnus can’t help but glare. “What? If I tell you it’s not, you’ll know I’m lying. It is. It’s because he met you. But let me tell you, I’ve known Alec for over a century, and he’d say it was worth it. And he’d be right. Because he has been so much happier since he met you. It was like he had finally found a reason to get up in the morning. I know him, and I know that he’d say it was worth it.”

Magnus has to swallow the lump in his throat before he can nod and says, “Thank you, Jace.”

“Back when Morgenstern had me, I had no idea Alec and Izzy were even looking for me,” Jace says. “But they never gave up on me. Alec never gave up on me. So, you know, don’t count him out yet. This time tomorrow, you two are gonna be grossing me out with your PDA just like usual.”

That makes Magnus huff out a laugh, and he says automatically, “You’re just jealous.”

“You’re not my type, Bane,” Jace says.

There’s a quiet knock on the door, and Ragnor pokes his head inside. Magnus had given him a brief description of the day’s events as they had gotten back to the Institute. “Magnus? Your mother’s here.”

Magnus looks uncertainly between Ragnor and Alec, and Jace says, “Go talk to your mom, I’ll stay with him.”

“Call me if anything changes,” Magnus says, reluctantly letting go of Alec’s hand. “I’ll be right outside.”

Jace nods, so Magnus stands up and leaves the room. Mei and Luke are both standing there, and Mei immediately pulls him into an embrace. Magnus doesn’t know how much she’s been told, and he’s not in the mood to explain at the moment. He just buries his face in her shoulder and hugs her as tightly as he can. Luke joins the embrace, getting one arm around Mei and the other around Magnus. “Izzy called to let us know you were here,” he says. “Although she didn’t give a lot of detail.”

Magnus nods. After a moment, he manages to pull away. He wipes a stray tear off his cheek and looks back at the door to the infirmary, unable to hold his mother’s gaze. “I killed him.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Mei says, squeezing his hands. “He’s going to be okay. I’m sure Izzy will – ”

“No, not Alec.” Magnus has to choke the words out. “Asmodeus. I killed him.”

“Oh.” Mei’s eyes close for a moment. “Oh, Magnus, I’m so sorry. You never should have had to . . . I just wanted to keep you safe from him.”

“I know.” Magnus lets her hug him again. He glances up as he feels Ragnor squeeze his shoulder. “I don’t really feel bad about it. Maybe I should. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. But he wasn’t my father.” He’s not sure who he’s explaining himself to, although it feels very important that he explain. “He wasn’t.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Luke agrees.

Magnus lets out a breath, feeling some equilibrium return to him. “I need to be with Alec right now. Would you stay with me?”

“Of course,” Mei says.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

It takes the combined efforts of Mei, Luke, Ragnor, and Jace to keep Magnus calm as Alec’s condition begins to deteriorate. Raphael has texted to let them know he’s at Izzy’s and she’s working on the potion, but Alec’s spasms are almost constant now. He’s pale, but his veins stand out in dark lines. Magnus sits by him and holds his hand as much as he can, but frequently gets up to pace.

When Izzy finally shows up, he practically drags her over to Alec’s bed. “I need room,” she says immediately, and Raphael ushers everyone out except Magnus and Alec’s siblings.

Magnus has focused on the bag that Izzy is carrying, which is far larger than he would have anticipated. He watches as she withdraws a plastic gallon jug filled with dark red liquid. “Is that it?” he asks, startled.

Izzy nods and grabs Alec’s arm, uncurling it so she can get a needle into the vein. Her gaze flicks between the needle and the IV equipment that Raphael is rolling over from another part of the ER. “I’ll fill it, you do the rest,” he says.

“What are you doing?” Magnus asks, as Raphael takes an empty IV bag and begins to fill it with the potion.

“The poison corrupts his blood,” Izzy says. “It spreads like an infection. We have to bleed him as much as it’s safe and then replace the blood with the demon blood.”

“Jesus,” Magnus says, but nods and says, “Okay, where do you need me?”

“Get Alec on his feet,” Izzy says. “Femoral artery is the best place to do it. Like cutting the bottom off a cup.”

“Graphic,” Jace says, helping Magnus get Alec up. He lets out a weak moan and shudders in their grip, head lolling. Izzy wastes no time, producing a small knife with a flick of her wrist and making a neat incision in Alec’s leg. Blood immediately starts gushing from it, and Alec groans again. Izzy looks at her watch, silently counting down the seconds.

“IV’s ready,” Raphael reports, and Izzy nods but doesn’t reply.

Magnus waits impatiently, his jaw twitching as he watches Alec go limp. “That’s enough, he’s – ”

Izzy shakes her head. “Ninety seconds.”

“Jesus,” Magnus says. It feels like it’s been a decade already. He has to start staring at Izzy’s watch, too, because to do anything else means watching Alec bleed, watching him grow even paler as the life drains from his body.

“Eighty-seven . . . eighty-eight . . . eighty-nine . . . okay, help me lay him down.” Izzy draws her finger over the wound in Alec’s leg, sealing it shut. Jace and Magnus get Alec back on the infirmary bed as Raphael hooks up the IV.

“What happens now?” Magnus asks.

“It’ll take about four hours for the transfusion,” Izzy says. “Which is still quicker than it really should be done. Then, this – ” She produces another syringe from the bag and uses Alec’s other arm to inject it. “ – will counter the rest of the ingredients of the potion. He probably won’t be awake until at least halfway through the transfusion, and he’ll be woozy as hell for a while.”

Magnus nods and sinks into a chair, realizing he’s trembling and his knees are a little weak. Izzy doesn’t look great either, and Jace steers her into the chair opposite him. She leans back so her head is resting against Jace’s stomach, and he squeezes her shoulder. “I’ll update Ragnor,” Raphael says. “Maybe order some food. I don’t think any of us had dinner.”

“Thanks,” Magnus says, and Raphael claps him on the shoulder as he goes by.

Gradually, things become quiet. Raphael comes in with a ton of Mexican food from his favorite restaurant, and Magnus eats two burritos without stopping to breathe. Once he’s eaten, the exhaustion of the long day sets in. He realizes he has no idea what time it is, but it has to be quite late. Jace sprawls out on one of the other infirmary beds and falls asleep. Raphael is in and out, talking to Ragnor about what’s going on in Idris, making sure that everything is being handled appropriately. Magnus slumps back in his chair and dozes.

He startles back awake when he hears Izzy’s voice, calm and gentle, saying, “Hey, big brother.” He looks over at Alec to see him blinking slowly as he regains his bearings. He’s still very pale, and the hand that Magnus has been holding is limp and weak.

“Wha han’d?” Alec mumbles.

“You got poisoned,” Izzy replies, “but we fixed you up. You’re going to be fine, you just need some time to rest.”

Alec blinks again and then slowly focuses on Magnus. A sleepy smile blooms on his face. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” Magnus replies, wanting to say something eloquent and meaningful, but coming up blank.

“Where . . .” Alec takes a moment to try to get his thoughts in order. “Azhmods?” he finally slurs out.

Magnus squeezes his hand. “He’s dead and gone. He won’t hurt you again, I promise.”

“Mmkay.” Alec gives a sleepy sigh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just worried about you.”

“I’ll be all righ’. I got . . . besh shister in z’worl.”

“Yes, you do,” Magnus says, laughing quietly. “She’s a genius.” He reaches out and squeezes Izzy’s wrist, seeing her smile. “I love you,” he adds.

“Love you too.” Alec’s eyes sag shut, but he continues to mumble, “So lucky I met you. Wanna be wi’you f’rever. S’okay?”

“Yeah,” Magnus says, leaning over to press a kiss against his forehead. “That is very okay with me. Now get some rest.”

“You’ll be righ’ here?”

“I’ll be right here.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec wakes up by slow degrees, coming back to consciousness one sense at a time. First he’s aware that he’s warm and comfortable, tucked away into bed. Then he realizes that it’s quieter than usual. Instead of the usual faint noises of traffic and his creaky ceiling fan, all he hears is a low hum. It smells different, too. He manages to open his eyes and then groans quietly as bright sunlight stabs at them. It takes him a moment to muster up the energy for a second try.

The first thing he sees is Magnus, sprawled out in the chair next to his bed. He’s sound asleep, and someone has covered him with a blanket. On his other side, there’s another infirmary bed, and Izzy is curled up on it. She, too, is asleep and tucked in. Alec casts his memory back for detail, but pretty much everything after he had passed out is blank. If he had been awake for any of his treatment, he can’t remember it.

He’s loath to wake up either Magnus or Izzy, but his throat feels like something died in it. He sees a sink with a stack of cups by it not far away and slowly sits up, propping himself up on his hands. The world does a few loop-the-loops but then settles down. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, stands up, and heads over to the –

No, he’s on the floor. Why is he on the floor? When did he get there?

“Alec!” Magnus exclaims. “Don’t try to go anywhere, for God’s sake – ”

“The fug,” Alec manages, trying to put the world back in order. Magnus gets an arm around him and hoists him back in bed. The world goes dim for a few moments. “Oh, God, I might puke.”

“Just take a few deep breaths,” Magnus says, running a hand up and down his spine and over his hair. It’s soothing, and Alec manages to do as instructed. “Better?”

“Yeah. Jesus.” Alec clears his throat, hearing how hoarse and scratchy his voice is. “I felt okay when I woke up, so I figured I was cured.”

“Cured, yes,” Magnus says. “Replenished all the blood you lost, no.”

“Blood?” Alec thinks back. He definitely doesn’t remember that.

Magnus squeezes his hand. “The potion that Camille gave you had angelic components, derived from seelie blood. It acted like an infection, corrupting your blood. We had to drain a bunch of it and then give you a transfusion of pure demon blood. Izzy said that it wasn’t quite enough to replace everything you lost, so we would have to keep you quiet and have you rest for at least a full day before you’d be back on your feet.”

“Oh.” Alec thinks about that. “Okay.”

“Now, what were you trying to do? I’ll get you anything you need.”

“Just wanted a drink,” Alec says.

“Of course.” Magnus heads over to the sink. Alec glances over at his sister to see that she hasn’t twitched, and he smiles slightly. She’s always been a sound sleeper. Plus he’s guessing that she was up most of the night, if not all of it. Magnus comes back with the cup of water and helps him sit up and take slow sips. “Let me text Raphael – Izzy said to give you some broth once you woke up.”

“Okay.” Alec hates being an invalid, but his stomach is rumbling and even broth sounds good. He frowns as he studies Magnus’ face in more detail. “You’re hurt.”

“Just a few bruises,” Magnus says, waving this aside. “Asmodeus had a few of his lackeys rough me up, figuring he could rescue me and use it to prove he cared.”

“Uh huh.” Alec takes another sip. “How’d that go for him?”

“For him? Poorly. For them? Even worse.” Magnus sets the cup down after Alec finishes it. “How much do you remember about what happened?”

“It’s pretty clear up until the poison,” Alec says. “A little blurry after that. I remember what happened to Asmodeus,” he adds, and reaches up to brush Magnus’ hair out of his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m . . .” Magnus lets out a breath. “A little shaken up, to be honest. But I’m pretty sure that’s ninety-nine percent because I almost lost you, and only one percent because I killed Asmodeus.” He draws Alec’s hand to his mouth and presses a kiss against his knuckles.

“I’m okay,” Alec says.

“I know. But still.”

Alec nods. “What about Camille?”

“Languishing in a dungeon cell, and apparently quite put out about it,” Magnus says. “Raphael and Ragnor have both been going back and forth, and keeping me informed. There’s no way Camille can talk her way out of this – active collusion with a known enemy of the Clave with the intent of harming another Shadowhunter. She’ll spend the rest of her days in prison, no matter how short or long they might be.”

“That’s good.” Alec breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Very much so. Hopefully we’ll manage to round up the rest of Asmodeus’ lackeys sooner rather than later, although I don’t doubt it’ll take some time to find them all.” Magnus hesitates, then says, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Alec says. “Ask me anything.”

“You didn’t know that Asmodeus didn’t actually have an antidote to the poison. But you stopped me from killing that vampire anyway. Why?”

Alec blinks at him. “I couldn’t let you do that to save me. It would have hurt you – would have _changed_ you. And I like you just the way you are.”

Magnus lets out a shaky breath and nods agreement. “Thank you.”

Alec cups the back of Magnus’ neck in one hand and draws him down for a brief, gentle kiss. “I sent her to the cell they put me in, after Camille accused me of trying to kill her, by the way. So, you know. You might want to check on her at some point.”

“Oh, Lord.” Magnus gives a snort of laughter despite himself. “Yes, I’ll make sure someone does that.”

The door opens and Raphael comes in, carrying a tray with him. It has not only Alec’s bowl of broth, but several plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. “I’m not your valet, you know,” he says to Magnus.

“That must be why you brought me breakfast,” Magnus says, clearly amused.

“You need to eat,” Raphael says, slapping the plate down on the side table.

“That I do,” Magnus agrees, picking it up. Raphael walks over to where Izzy is sleeping and sets a plate down; she’s already stirring at the smell of food. Alec drinks his broth somewhat grumpily, eyeing the plates of food and wondering when he’ll be allowed to have them. Magnus devours his breakfast in a matter of minutes, then lets out a yawn that he tries to mask.

“You should get some sleep,” Alec says, and pats the bed next to him.

“Mm,” Magnus says, yawning again. He climbs up onto the narrow mattress and tucks himself against Alec’s side, resting his head in the crook of Alec’s neck. Alec snags the blanket from Magnus’ chair and pulls it over both of them. He falls asleep a few minutes later, comforted by the feeling of Magnus’ breath against his throat.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“It’s such a beautiful cathedral,” Magnus says, taking one last look around as he and Alec exit out the main doors. He twines his fingers through Alec’s and adds, “Thanks for taking me here.”

“Thanks for coming with me,” Alec responds, squeezing his hand. They walk in silence for a minute, enjoying the fresh air, before settling down in an empty courtyard. “Here, I want to show you something,” Alec says, giving his fingers a little twist and producing what looks like a sketchbook. “Remember how I told you that Tomas gave me art lessons?”

“I do,” Magnus says.

“Well, I’ve forgotten everything,” Alec says, and Magnus laughs. “I was never that good at it to begin with, honestly. But apparently Clary’s an artist. Izzy told me. So I, uh, I put some of my memories on a crystal and gave it to her, and she drew this for me.” He opens the sketchbook and shows Magnus a picture done in colored pencils, of a man in his twenties with dark hair and a charming smile. “I guess my memories of Fernando were still clear enough that it worked.”

“He’s beautiful,” Magnus says. “He has such a kind smile.”

“Yeah. He was a really kind person, too.” Alec smiles, too, looking at the picture. “For a really long time, I wished I had never met him. Losing him hurt that much. But I’m glad I did. I hope . . . I hope that he’s glad, too.”

“I’m sure he is,” Magnus says. “Who wouldn’t be glad to meet you?”

Alec laughs. “Plenty of people, trust me. But I was thinking about it, about what happened. About how I nearly died, but even if I had, it would have been with no regrets. I still would have been happy I met you, and fell in love with you, even though we’ve only had a few months together.”

“I’m glad I met you, too,” Magnus says. “I’m glad for every minute.”

Alec leans over and presses a kiss against his temple, and they sit in silence for another few minutes, until the church bells start to chime.

“Ah, is it that late already?” Magnus says. “We should think about getting back. My mother says she’s cooking something called Nasi Rawon, which was apparently my favorite dish as a child. I’m excited to try it.”

Alec nods and stands up. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s get home.”

 

 

~fin~


End file.
